#also sorry I’m only posting so late in the day

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

KINKTOBER (reuploaded)

Pegging (Matt)

Request: none but yall begged for me to bring it back lmao

Warnings: pegging obviously, sub!matt, best friends, bi reader, fingering(male), dual pleasure strap on, use of vibrator, slight edging, use of matty, mommy kink, whiny!matt, 0.2 seconds of matt sucking the strap, i think that’s all, lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: sorry this is a few days late, i’ve been super busy. tomorrow will be posted on time

Y/n’s pov

I was in the kitchen working on my MacBook when my best friend Matt came in and sat across from me. “Hey Matt.” I greeted him without looking up from my computer screen. “Um hi Y/n/n. Can I uh ask you like a really weird and personal question?” he asked. I was a bit confused but nonetheless nodded in agreement, “Sure I guess…” I said while clicking save and closed my laptop to give him my full attention. “I uh- I can’t ask you here, can we go to my room?” he stated nervously, only adding to my confusion.

We got into his room and Matt closed the door behind him, “So you know how you’re bi?” “Oh really, I am? I had no idea!” I replied sarcastically. “Not funny, but like you’re bi, obviously. I um, uh I-I know you have a strap-on…” he stuttered and trailed off. “If your question is why do I have it, I’m going to hit you for being dumb.” I joked, making Matt squirm uncomfortably, “Have you ever, you know, used it on a guy before?” he inquired nervously. “No… Why do you want to know about my sex life you weirdo?” I was suddenly getting a bit flustered because how the hell does Matt know I have a strap-on in the first place and why is he asking me about what I do with it?

“I- uh- I really like y-you and I have um- a fantasy involving you a-and I really want you to do it. Please don’t get mad.” he stated in a rushed tone, stuttering over a few words. I was beyond confused and a bit shocked, “That’s not how I expected this conversation to go. Um, okay, wow- what’s um… what’s this fantasy?” I asked curiously. Matt started to nervously pick at his nails and chew on his lip, avoiding eye contact with me as his cheeks turned pink. “Would you please dom me?” he asked, “And peg me…” he added, saying it so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him.

“What!? Matt are you sure? It’s probably gonna hurt, I’ve-I’ve never done that before. I’ve only ever used it to fuck a girls pussy.” I replied flustered and just as nervous as Matt. He finally looked at me with pleading eyes, “Please? I have lube and I’ve fingered myself before. I’ll be a good boy and listen, I promise!” he begged me. Looking at his face, I reluctantly agreed “I uh- okay, we can try it. I’m just scared I’m going to hurt you.” I told him softly. “You won’t hurt me, it’ll just be uncomfortable at first. I really want this, I’ve thought about it since we were 17. Can we do it tonight? Chris and Nick are going over to a friend’s house.” Matt said quickly, clearly excited that I agreed.

“Sure I guess, but I’m gonna want foreplay beforehand. And I’m probably gonna want to kiss you, like a lot.” I laughed as Matt’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink again. He started looking down again nervously “Can I kiss you right now?” he asked softly, instead of answering I just tilted his head up and captured his lips in a short but sweet kiss. “Mhm, thank you.” he blurted out after, as I got up and made my way to the door. I sent him a wink before going to my own room where I pulled out my strap-on, which happened to be one for dual pleasure, meaning there was a vibrating dildo that went into me as well.

Even though it had already been cleaned after the last time I used it, I decided to clean it again anyway. I also decided I needed to ask Matt another question so I texted him to come to my room. I laid out a few sets of lingerie, that basically cover nothing, on my bed, but I wanted Matt to pick one anyway. “Um what did you need my help with?” he asked as he stepped into my room, closing the door. “I want you to pick which one you want me to wear tonight.” I said while pulling him over to my bed to look at what I had picked out. I stopped when I noticed Matt kept trying to cover his crotch with his hands, instantly knowing he was hard. “Are you hard right now Matty?” I teased, causing him to blush deeply.

“Only a little bit. I didn’t touch myself, I promise! I-I do have a vibrator in m-my ass though but it’s not on. I just wanted to edge myself so I could cum more later, ‘m sorry I didn’t a-ask.” he stuttered out, extremely flustered. “Do you have the remote?” I questioned as he was eyeing this one black set, which was mostly just straps. “Yes, and I want this one it’s really sexy.” he blurted out before blushing heavily. The one he picked out was a black leather bra and panties set with a grater belt, the bra was basically just an outline of one as it had nothing covering my tits. It did hold my them up nicely though, just like the panties, which were crotchless, and the garter made my ass look good.

“Can I have control of the vibrator until tonight? You think you can handle that without cumming?” I inquired, wanting to know how far I could take things with him. Matt dug into his pocket before pulling out the remote and handed it to me with an embarrassed smile. “I think I can as long as it’s not on 24/7.” he told me as he grabbed my hand and started nervously playing with the few rings I had on my fingers. “Can I ask you a serious question?” I asked Matt, resulting in him nodding. “I’m not judging you, I just want to know, but you don’t have to answer if you feel uncomfortable. Why do you want to be pegged so badly and like having things up your ass? I don’t care if you are, but are you like gay or bi?” I questioned, causing him to drop my hand.

Matt’s face turned a bright red and he had to clear his throat a couple of times before speaking. “N-No, I’m not gay or bi, I don’t find men attractive. I was just young and experimenting one day and figured out how to stimulate my prostate. I wanna get pegged because I’ve seen it on pornhub and it looks really hot.” he said softly. “Plus you’re someone I trust and if I’m being honest, you’re really attractive and you domming me would be the hottest fucking thing in the world to me.” he added, blushing heavily. “Noted. Thanks Matty, that’s all I needed.” I smiled at him before Nick conveniently called for him. This was the perfect time to start teasing him with the vibrator.

After putting the other two lingerie sets away, I walked out to the kitchen, pretending to go back to working on my laptop. I watched as Matt sat down next to Nick on the couch, pulling the small remote out of my pocket I pressed the + button, turning it on to 1, making Matt’s breath hitch a little. He looked up at me with pleading eyes to stop as he was talking to Nick but I turned it up again to 3, making him squirm a bit. “Matt, are you okay? You look uncomfortable and you’re not paying attention.” Nick asked, genuinely concerned.

Matt’s pov

I regret giving Y/n the remote to the vibrator now because I didn’t think she’d turn it on when I was talking to my fucking brother. I was fine when it was on level 1 but when she turned it up to 3 my brain went a bit foggy, I zoned out a little bit until Nick put his hand on my shoulder. “Matt, are you okay? You look uncomfortable and you’re not paying attention.” he asked, I quickly came up with an excuse. “Yeah I’m fine, my head just hurts a bit.” I lied, looking at Y/n and silently asking her to turn it off, which luckily for me, she did. After talking to Nick, I walked over to her, “Please don’t turn it on when I’m talking to my brother!” I pleaded, but that just made her turn it up to 5 while smirking.

“But doesn’t it feel good Matty?” she asked, I let out a whimper and nodded before walking back to the living room. This went on for the next two hours or so until Nick and Chris left, my boxers were soaked with precum and my dick was so hard. I was laying on my bed and I swear I almost came in my pants when Y/n walked in. She was wearing the lingerie set I picked out along with the strap-on, which was black and matched the set perfectly. The strap-on was definitely smaller than my dick, maybe 5 or 6 inches max, but that was good because I don’t think I could take one that’s upwards of 7 inches.

I started squirming as Y/n stood above me, looking down at me and telling me to get undressed. She already had me take the vibrator out like 15 minutes ago, not that it really mattered. “You’re already being such a good boy for me Matty.” she praised, making me whine a bit as her eyes raked over my body. “I’m ready for you to dom me.” I confessed, causing her to stop staring at my body and smile at me. “Where’s your lube at?” she asked me but I just got it for her instead, “Thank you handsome, can you lay on the bed for me?” she asked sweetly, knowing I was a bit nervous to get pegged and have sex with her in general.

Y/n’s pov

I know Matt said he wanted me to dom him, but I could visibly tell he was anxious and nervous so I was trying to be as gentle as I could with him. “Matty, if it’s too much or it hurts too bad let me know and we’ll stop and cuddle okay?” I said while moving some hair out of his eyes. “I promise I’ll say something.” he replied, “What do you wanna start with first babe?” I asked him, wanting to do things his way. “I want to makeout with you.” he giggled, I hovered over Matt and we started kissing slowly at first, then we started full-on making out. I was sucking on Matt’s tongue and he was letting out the prettiest whiny moans as I ran my hands up and down his sides.

Experimentally, I started ghosting my hands across his nipples, loving the whimper it pulled from him. I pulled back for just a second, “Does that feel good baby?” I questioned while rubbing my thumbs over his nipples before rolling them between my thumb and index finger. “Yeah but please more!” he whined, not making too much sense, “Please what baby? What do you want me to do?” I asked as I kissed all over his chest. “Want you to just peg me already. I’m ready mommy.” Matt squirmed. His eyes opened widely when he realized what he just said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mea-“ he started before I cut him off with a kiss.

“Don’t be impatient baby, mommy will fuck you when she’s ready.” I said sternly as I moved towards his aching cock. I discreetly turned my vibrator onto 2, not high enough to make me cum but just enough to get me more wet. His cock was already covered and dripping with precum, “This really gets you worked up, doesn’t it?” I teased as I grabbed the lube. I squeezed some onto my fingers and circled his puckered hole before slowly slipping one in. “Two fingers please, I can take it.” he whined, I added a second finger and Matt was right, he could indeed take it.

I started scissoring his hole opened before adding some more lube and a third finger causing Matt to whimper. “Too much?” I asked, not wanting to hurt him, “N-No just so full.” he panted out in response. I fingered Matt for a few more minutes until he grabbed my wrist and stopped me. “I-I think I’m ready mommy.” he said, looking up at me with those innocent blue eyes. “Are you sure?” I asked as I pulled my fingers out, wiping the rest of the lube off on my thigh. “Really sure, can- can I get it wet with my mouth and control your vibrator, please?” Matt asked nervously.

I handed him the remote and stood up, Matt quickly turned my toy up to 5 which caused me to squirm before he got on his knees. “You look good on your knees baby.” I complimented, making him blush heavily. “How do I um you know, suck dick?” Matt asked, his last two words barely above a whisper. “Well I’m not going to feel anything so you can just do whatever.” I explained, Matt nodded and started to suck on it lightly for a minute as I looked down at him.

He whined and stopped sucking, “I can’t wait, just use lube because I need it now!” he complained, desperately trying not to touch himself. “Okay, get back on the bed for me then.” I said while stroking the side of his face. Once Matt got back on the bed, I put some lube around his hole and onto the strap. “It might hurt baby, so tell me if you need to stop.” “Okay Y/n, please I need you so bad!” he whined. I placed the tip at Matt’s entrance and slowly pushed it in about half way.

Matt let out a choked sob as his hands tightly clenched the sheets and his face held a look of discomfort. “It’s okay Matty, you’re okay.” I soothed him, “P-Put the rest in.” he whimpered. I pushed in the rest of the way before stilling my movements again, not wanting to go too fast. Matt being the sneaky little shit he is, decided to turn my vibrator up to 7, I let out a loud moan as he did so. “Please move.” he groaned quietly, I started pumping at a slow pace as he started to groan a bit.

Even though I was feeling so much pleasure from the vibrator and I wanted nothing more than to start pounding into Matt, I stopped myself because I didn’t want to hurt him. “F-Faster mommy!” he loudly whined, I sped up my movements just a little bit, loving Matt’s whimpers and moans, “Feel good baby?” I panted out. “More! Need more!” he cried out, grabbing onto my shoulders, “Want me to go faster or harder?” I asked, wanting to clarify what he wanted.

“Both, please! Feels so goo—“ he cut himself off with an extremely loud moan as I started fucking into him rougher. “RIGHT THERE! FUCK MOMMY, D-DO THAT AGAIN!” he begged, bending his knees and putting his feet flat on the bed to arch his back more. Even with all the pleasure Matt was experiencing, he was still thinking about me, he turned up my vibrator to 10 which caused me to also join in on his loud moaning.

“Right here Matty? Is that where it feels good?” I asked breathlessly, “Yes! Yes! Please touch my cock, please! Please!” he needily moaned. I started rubbing his cock in rhythm with my thrust as we were both getting closer to the edge. “A-Are you close mommy?” “Very close baby, I just want you to cum first.” I told Matt, speeding up all my movements. “Choke me! Choke me tightly so I can please cum!” he whimpered.

I used my left hand to choke him and a couple seconds later, Matt was painting both our stomachs white with copious amounts of cum, cause me to cum as well and pulled out a him. “M-Matt, vibrator!” I cried for him to turn it off as I was getting overstimulated, “Sorry, sorry.” he apologized out of breath and turned it off my vibrator as I collapsed next to him on my back as we caught our breath.

I took off the strap and I was honestly just going to put it on the floor because I was too tired to clean it right now but Matt took it from me. He licked all my cum off the vibrating side before he put it on the floor and scooped his cum off of me. Matt stuck his fingers in his mouth to taste himself and moaned when I moved to lick the rest of his cum off his body. “You were such a good boy Matty, you did so well.” I praised him as I kissed his neck, sucking a minimal amount of hickies into the skin.

“Thank you Y/n/n, felt so good.” Matt blushed as I stood up to go take another shower “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up real quick.” I said while helping Matt up. I grabbed my clothes and strap-on as well as a pair of socks, boxers and a tshirt for Matt before we went to my room to take a quick shower. When we got out and got dressed we looked at the time to see Nick and Chris would be home soon. As to not be sus, we sat in the living to watch a movie and Matt was now extra clingy.

I’m not complaining, I think it’s cute, I enjoyed it. Matt had his head on my shoulder and I had an arm wrapped around his shoulders. I was playing with his hair when Nick and Chris walked back in and thankfully neither of them said anything. They probably just chalked it up to Matt feeling anxious about something and I comforted him. Both boys simply just plopped down on the couch to watch the movie with us until we all called it a night, Matt ended up sleeping in my room.

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[quibbs126]

Hey! I like your art and I wanted to ask you if you can do a cream unicorn and dark choco fankid?

Well I’m glad you like it, and here’s Violet Sugar Cookie

So to be perfectly honest…I didn’t actually have a food in mind when I designed her. The thing that I based her on was the Solid Violet Sugar Crystal ingredient from Ovenbreak, since it was a liked gift for Dark Choco, and it was about dreams, and I know Cream Unicorn Cookie has some association with dreams, so I just named her Violet Sugar. I’m not sure about the name, since it isn’t really similar to Dark Choco or Cream Unicorn, but I can’t really think of anything else. There’s not that many purple desserts that aren’t just like, blueberry flavored or something similar, and I wanted her name to start with Violet. If anyone has something better, feel free to suggest

Solid Violet Sugar Crystal:

Her colors were also inspired by Cream Unicorn’s Nebula Butterfly costume in Ovenbreak, but I think her design was mostly Dark Choco, with a few Cream Unicorn elements. I based her sword off of Dark Choco’s Young Prince sword, because of the whole dream/memory thing, and it sort of being like a reminder of his past. The gem in her sword is probably a Solid Violet Sugar Crystal. Oh and another thing, her hair is supposed to be in a braid, you just can’t really see it. But overall, I think I like her design quite a bit

So on to Violet Sugar, so basically my thought process with her was “warrior + dreams = dream warrior?” And so yeah, basically she’s a guardian of dreams that fights against nightmares (I assume in my head that nightmares are like actual creatures she fights in the dream world). She primarily focuses on the dreams/nightmares of younger Cookies, as she feels they deserve to have happy dreams, though she does occasionally go into adults’ dreams. I think she like, physically shows up in their dreams to fight off the nightmares. I’m not sure how she gets to the world of dreams, whether it’s just through sleeping or she like, just physically goes there, like she disappears from the waking world and goes into the sleeping one.

I have kind of a funny idea for the second one, where it’s just like, there’s some family drama going on and she’s just like “nope not doing this, I’mma go fight nightmares” and just disappears like that peace fade meme before anyone can stop her

Anyways, so she’s been going to the world of dreams ever since she was young, and even back then, she wanted to help people stop having nightmares. So that she’d seem a better “guardian of dreams” and look more imposing and cool, she created a persona for herself that she calls the Violet Knight, depicted in the sketch. To be honest, that sketch was just a rough draft, I have no idea how to draw a Cookie in full body armor. I just drew that to show it is full body armor. Anyways so that’s what the Violet Knight looks sort of like, and what they’ve always looked like, since this is the dream world and she can look however she wants. In current day she uses the persona when she doesn’t want her identity to be known

Considering we now know Dark Cacao to have a lot of nightmares, perhaps at some point she and her grandfather have met, though only under the disguise of the Violet Knight

But yeah I think that’s about it for her. I realize I don’t really have anything concerning her and her parents. I think I mostly just took ideas from the two and made them into a Cookie. But oh well. Hope you like her regardless!

[torpublishinggroup]

"Warning Signs Your Machines Are Trying to Kill You!" by TJ Klune

(Legally, I’m required to tell you that when smart phones first became popular, I bought one and then asked for the address of the app store because I thought it was a physical location I had to go to in order to download apps and not something already on your phone. Also, I was recently told I speak like an old person so as a warning, there will not be any slang you youths typically hear, especially on Tumblr. Any slang I’ve learned in the last five years has been against my will. I still don’t know what FOMO means, and I don’t care.)

1. Oh no! You and your family are trying to enjoy a movie night, but Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) wants a sacrifice at the altar of their god, BeeZos. Should this happen, do not attempt to give Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) a cantaloupe with googly-eyes on it and say that it is your baby. Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) knows the difference between fruit and children. Instead, ask the machine to order dog food, and it will forget about eating humans for a little while.

2. If you own a very fancy vehicle that can drive itself, always make sure to carry a brick. That way, when the car locks you inside and attempts to drive you off a cliff into a gas station, you can break the window using the brick. You will then have to jump out, but make sure you do so in time so you can watch the wicked-ass explosion when the car hits the gas station, and you can revel in your victory over your car.

3. This one will hurt. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Chances are, you’re reading this on your phone right this second. To be safe, after you’ve finished reading this post and have clicked on the affiliated links to purchase my books, you should throw your phone into a volcano and then move to South Dakota where there are no machines, only wind and cows. That way, when everyone else gets the 5GZombieVirus that people on Twitter (I’m not calling it the other thing, shut up) seem to think is real, you’ll be safe with your cows on a windy day.

4. Get rid of your air fryer. Don’t ask me why, just do it. Red flags all around. Danger, danger.

5. Do you know of the Clapper? That thing first launched in the late 20th century (I wrote it that way to make me feel old) where the commercials showed cranky old people unable to reach their light switches, so they got a thing called a Clapper that turns your lights on and off when you clap? Guess what? Those will be the first things to try and kill you. If you love your gram-gram, save her from the Clapper. When she asks why you are destroying it with an ax, tell gram-gram it’s because you love her.

6. Do you live in a smart home? The kind where everything is connected to the internet, including your refrigerator? The refrigerator that holds your perishable foods? And oh, would you look at that: how many ice cubes have you kicked under it rather than picking them up when they fall to the floor? A dozen? A million? The refrigerator remembers. And it will spoil your food in seconds. What then? What are you going to eat? Canned food? Not if the refrigerator falls on top of you!

Unfortunately for you, this is where it must end. I hope this has given you enough information to help you survive the inevitable. If you do not heed my warnings, well. Who cares. I’m not in charge of you. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come complaining to me when gram-gram gets the clap.

[yueebby]

2 + 1 — gojo satoru

synopsis. two times megumi thinks gojo is a lost cause and one time he approves of the white haired idiot

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, ooc, misogyny (from the clan heads), he is so pathetic for his wife (nauseating!), slight yandere behavior, violence, in megumi’s pov, not proofread eep

notes. can you tell i've been obsessed with the apothecary diaries? >< also how long has it been since i've posted a fic? anyways... enjoy!

fushiguro megumi has always wondered how that blue eyed idiot managed to marry you. he must have resorted to underhanded tactics; or at least that's what the sea urchin suspects. though he's never voiced it, the question has bothered him since the day he first encountered the both of you.

nobara clicks her tongue. “this is borderline creepy.” her orange eyes are filled with nothing short of distaste.

“there’s more too,” megumi’s voice responded, carefully flipping the page. the delicate artifact in his hand is something that he should have not touched. perhaps he should have wrapped it with a talisman and destroyed it while he had the chance.

it was too late for that anyway, because not even a second later, gojo satoru bursts through the shoji doors of the classroom. 

with eyes blown wide as if they were caught committing a crime (they were), the first years who had pulled three seats up to a singular desk stare at him. satoru's eyes widen behind his blindfold as he catches sight of the object of their focus.

there lies in the middle of the wooden desk was the physics textbook that all first year jujutsu tech students were required to read. however, this wasn’t just any plain old textbook. it was gojo satoru’s former textbook. brimmed with doodles of their beloved [name] sensei and gojo himself when they were back in highschool.

any free space that was not filled with words were taken up by drawings of you inside of hearts and sometimes a depiction of a chibi version of the two of you.

a true testament to gojo satoru’s pining and devotion to you.

“sensei, we can explain–” yuji attempts to explain himself but gojo holds up a hand to silence the boy. 

unlike you, megumi finds it a lot more challenging to read the white haired sorcerer’s expression with the blindfold on. he wonders if his punishment will be a painful beating disguised as a sparring session (megumi will run to you, who will scare gojo into backing down). you have that effect on him.

it seems like the heavens have answered megumi’s prayers because gojo satoru doesn’t seem to harbor any anger at his shocking revelation.

“i can’t believe you guys found this old thing.” satoru dismisses his students’ personal space by leaning closely to observe the pages. the black haired boy makes a noise of disapproval, but was quickly cut off by his benefactor. “megumi, be grateful that i’m in a good mood today.” he doesn’t elaborate the ominous message, rather choosing to hum happily as he studies his own drawings.

megumi is smart enough to keep his mouth shut. 

“i never took you to be the pathetic type,” kugisaki continues to flip through the pages of the textbook. yuji nods furiously, as if to agree to her observation.

“you seriously never noticed?” megumi mutters under his breath.

gojo places a strong hand on megumi’s back, a languid smile on his face, “it was only natural, considering the lengths i had to go through to win her over.” he ignores the way megumi gasps for air.

“seriously?” itadori asks in disbelief.

“seriously.” gojo confirms wholeheartedly.

megumi shudders, recollecting memories of times before gojo tied you down for good.

2009

“sorry i’m late!” gojo bursts through the dingy apartment door with a convenience store bag in his arm. he was breathing heavily, an indication that he had run to the apartment. an uninterested seven year old megumi doesn’t bother leaving his place on the couch to greet his benefactor.

“they’re in the kitchen,” he says in his monotone voice, eyes never leaving the book that you had just gifted him.

“they?” gojo walks up to megumi to ruffle his hair aggressively. he receives a hiss in return.

“tsumiki and [name]?” the black haired kid says it like it was obvious. his sentence is accompanied with an eyeroll.

at the mention of your name, gojo immediately perks up. megumi imagines that if he were a cat, his ears would be swiveling and his nose twitching, attuned to pick up any trace of your presence. he had just learned that from the nonfiction book in his lap. 

“[name]?! here? now?” gojo’s eyebrows are raised all the way to his forehead. the white haired sorcerer immediately started fixing his uniform and hair. megumi thinks it was comical. he was a lost cause.

the snarky look on his face is quickly wiped off when he sees gojo leaning down, mouth wide open.

“oi brat, check my breath,” gojo opens his mouth wide for megumi to check. the black haired kid shrivels up into the couch the further gojo leans down. megumi considers summoning his newly discovered jujutsu technique, hoping to avoid his fate.

“—toru? what are you doing?” your voice, like a divine intervention, stops gojo from sending megumi to the depths of despair. a sigh of relief escapes his lips.

now it was his turn to watch gojo squirm. the older male’s face contorts to an awkward smile and all of a sudden gojo is reduced to nothing but a mess.

“don’t worry about it darling!” gojo slowly turns around to face you. “agh—?!”

megumi has to peek around satoru’s big frame to see what elicited such a response from the man.

he’s met with a wave of underwhelming familiarity. there you stand, clad in a frilly apron with a wooden spoon in hand, the essence of domesticity incarnate. the soft glow of the warm kitchen lights dances around you, casting a warm aura that seems to envelop the room.

“welcome home, satoru.” you give him your signature closed eye smile. “i mean, you probably don’t consider it your home but—“

you’re cut off by satoru banging his head on the nearest wall repeatedly. he’s muttering something under his breath that you don’t hear.

to his dismay, megumi's keen ears catch every syllable. satoru's voice, though hushed, carries a hint of longing, "what an angel," he whispers, his words laced with adoration. "just marry me already."

unamused, he watches while you try to desperately pry gojo from his strange outburst.

a lost cause indeed.

2009

in that very year, megumi learns that gojo’s efforts to win your affection had yielded no progress. it had become increasingly apparent that his frequent visits to megumi and tsumiki's humble home were motivated to immerse himself in the semblance of domesticity that your presence offered. megumi almost pitied the man, if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew you deserve someone more sensible.

me

[name]

[nameeeee]

i’m dying.

and it’s your fault t^t

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

excuse me?

me

i’ll have you know that i worked the hardest that i have ever worked to finish all of my paperwork so i could see you tonight… only to find out from megumi that you’re on a date?!!?

i feel like my chest is caving in. 

i’m going to throw up.

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

oh this is what you’re interrupting my date for?

me

i’m going to be sick.

please tell me, is he hotter than me? wealthier? funnier?

megumi quickly looks away from gojo’s phone screen when the white haired male slams it shut and mutters under his breath a couple of curses. he’s pretty sure half of them were death threats.  honestly, couldn't you have attracted someone with more dignity?

“change of plans,” gojo claps his hands together. “movie night’s off.”

“what?” megumi protests, confusion etched in his features.

“our beloved [name] is getting swept off of her feet. you wouldn’t want that to happen, right?” gojo continues, his tone light but his gaze sharp as it bores into megumi's soul. something unpleasant coils in the pit of his stomach.

megumi feels a chill run down his spine, his mind racing with the implications of gojo's words. if you choose to date this new guy, he realizes, you won't need him or gojo anymore. and that thought terrifies him. it pains megumi to feed into gojo's delusions.

but he can’t let this unnamed suitor steal you away.

a wolfish grin makes its way to gojo’s mouth when he realizes that he’s won.

“what's the plan?”

2016

it was only years later that megumi had seen the true monster that lurks inside of gojo satoru. 

on a hot summer evening, amidst a gathering of esteemed clan heads, he and satoru found themselves in a traditional chamber. while the finer details of the meeting escape his memory, the image of the room that altered his perception of gojo satoru is etched in his mind indefinitely. the wooden walls, adorned with subtle yet elegant designs, speak volumes about the room’s significance as a venue for the most influential members of jujutsu society.

throughout the meeting, he finds himself driving in and out of focus, content to let his mentor represent the gojo clan. however, his attention is abruptly seized by a particular remark that cuts through the haze of his thoughts.

“how’s that whore of yours, gojo?” a clan head jeered, clearly drunk on the sake that was constantly refilled by the servant on the side. his flushed complexion is scarcely discernible thanks to the dim glow emanating from the few lanterns scattered around the room. 

there was only one person he could have been referring to: you. underneath the wooden table, his fingers tightened painfully into fists. pretentious bastards, megumi thinks.

another geezer rubbed his beard thoughtfully, “she has a nice body. perfect to be a concubine, but i would marry a more submissive woman.”

megumi's gaze stealthily darts towards gojo, seated beside him.

he’s startled to find the white-haired man wears a wide grin that belies a hidden truth. unseen by the elders before them, lurking beneath gojo's outward expression, is a manic gleam in his eyes—a revelation that sends a shiver down megumi's spine.

“i’d hold my tongue if i were you.” gojo satoru’s voice was dripping with venom. he sounded downright murderous.

"i'm right, am i not? we can share her if you'd like- name the price." the drunkard continues loudly.

megumi senses an instinctive wave of primal dread washing over him, compelling him with an urgent, almost instinctual need to flee or die.

before he can move a muscle, the flames that surround the room flicker before extinguishing in succession by an unknown force. the metallic stench of blood fills the air and all he can hear is the sound of flesh mutilating and bones crushing accompanied by the painful shouts of the men that once sat in front of him. he doesn’t have to see it with his own eyes to be able to sense gojo’s strong curse residue that suffocates the room.

“stand up megumi. we’re leaving.” his voice carries a feral edge, leaving no room for objection.

on their way out of the compound, the two don’t utter a word at what had just transpired. 

megumi's gaze remains fixed on the ground beneath his feet, the images of the recent events swirling in his mind, leaving him unsettled and shaken. with each step, he grapples with the unsettling realization that beneath gojo satoru's charismatic facade lies a darker, more sinister nature.

the strongest sorcerer of today, riled up by the mere mention of your name.

megumi supposes he doesn’t feel much remorse for those clan heads anyway. he was never the type to mourn over people he didn’t know dying. especially not people who he knew would live on to do evil. it doesn’t help that they were blatantly disrespecting you. perhaps he could sympathize with the monster inside of gojo.

oblivious to the turmoil that stirs inside of megumi, gojo starts to smile.

“i know what you’re going to say,” gojo hums happily. “gojo sensei, you’re so cool! i approve of you marrying my beloved [name]! kyaa~’” he makes a pathetic attempt to imitate megumi. 

the black haired boy grunts. he was going to say something along the lines of his approval for his benefactor, but all desires of flattering the white haired sorcerer disappeared.

gojo watches the black haired boy intently before tutting.

“not that it matters.” megumi is startled to hear how his voice dropped an octave. “i was always going to marry [name] and i’ll be damned to let anyone stop me.” 

2018 – present day

after satiating his students with tales from his pining days, your husband comes home often clingier than normal (is that even possible?). the moment satoru enters your home, his arms envelop you, caging you in his hold.

you can't help but giggle as his hair brushes against the side of your neck, his embrace pulling you in close, as if he's inhaling your presence.  his muscles flex when you attempt to slip away, keeping you in his tight embrace.

“sato– what is going on?!” 

“is it a crime to show my wife some love?” he kisses your neck. when his flurry of kisses stop, he resorts to absorbing all of your features with those cerulean eyes of his.

you don’t bother pushing him away again, choosing to thread your fingers through his soft hair. even after all these years, you will never not feel the effect of satoru’s eyes on you.

“i was telling my first years about you today,” he says softly.

you smile, “is that so?”

he pushes his nose into your neck again, nodding.

“you’re so good to them,” you whisper. despite the initial shock behind satoru choosing to pursue education, you’re extremely proud of how far he’s come.

“mhm,” satoru inhales. “i’d be good to our little ones too.” one of his hands sneak to your stomach.

you delicately guide his face away from your form, your fingers tenderly urging him to meet your gaze. "is there something you want to tell me?" you inquire softly, your eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.

satoru's smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "perhaps," he murmurs, his touch light as he guides you towards the bedroom. without hesitation, you yield to his lead, eager at his sudden intimate gesture.

from outside your home, three first year students stand, waiting for their sensei’s cue to enter.

“do you think he’s forgotten about us?” yuji furrows his eyebrows, hands full of grocery bags that were going to be prepared for dinner.

extra notes. had the idea of gojo and megumi crashing your date in my drafts for so long. maybe ill elaborate on it if the ppl want to see :,)

[indulgentdaydream]

BEEN WAITING FOR THIS BESTIE

what about a tired and very touch-starved jason wakes up at like 2pm and fem!reader is out of bed??? and he comes and finds them and throws them over his shoulder and brings them back to bed???? because why would you leave jaybean by himself????? unnacceptable???

THIS IS SO ADORABLE WHAT

And the idea of people waiting for my requests to be open is so weird like… what do you mean you wanna read my writings and hear my thoughts??? Y’all make me smile so much I swear

Side note: I’m so sorry this is a month late. And then also another day late than I said I would post.

Side side note: if y’all saw me post this without the photo header…. No you didn’t

M.I.A

Jason Todd x gn!Reader || Domestic Fluff || Word Count: 758

Warnings: not completely proofread. Gun mention.

Jason’s pulled himself out of a bad dream. Not quite a nightmare, though something eerily close.

It was one of those rare nights that he had off of patrol. One he where the two of you got to eat dinner together, watch some TV, get ready for bed, then fall asleep in your shared bed. He enjoyed the chances when he got them.

He laid on his stomach under the comfortably heavy duvet. His left arm was bent beneath his pillow, his hand grazing the hidden .44 he had convinced you to let him keep there, the other arm laying in front of him. He kept his eyes closed, clinging to his last tendrils of sleep.

All he needed was you back in his arms and his dreams would turn good again, filled with the smell of your soap and hints of faded perfume.

Slowly, he stretches his right arm out across the sheets, sleepily searching for your form. It drags along the sheets, his entire body only half-asleep.

He’s aware that there’s this… itch in his skin. Not a physical itch. An itch that can only be satisfied by having your arms around him again.

Jason Todd doesn’t count sheep. He counts your heart beats or your breathing. Sometimes both.

He must be laying further to the edge of his side of the bed than he thought. Usually, he doesn’t have to reach this far to get to you when you two drift apart in your sleep.

His hand grazes the wall. His eyes shoot open.

You aren’t in bed.

He pushes himself up with his elbows. A tired, confused, and slightly panicked frown settled on his face, his hair mussed up and flat on one side of his head.

The bedroom window is closed. The door is cracked open.

Then he notices the sound of the tap running in the kitchen.

Jason gets up and out of bed, moving languidly. He pads his way out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

His eyes squint at the light you had turned on as he stands in the doorway. All foggy panic he felt before faded away at the sight of you, filling a glass with water, standing in one of his shirts.

He shuffles his feet. A purposeful noise that he wouldn’t otherwise make as he went about his day, one to get your attention.

You turn around, your glass of water in your hand. You take notice of your boyfriend’s large stature filling the entryway, a sleepy pout on his lips. You give him a smile. He can tell you're trying not to laugh at his fatigued state.

“Want a glass, too?”

Jason shakes his head. He makes his way across the kitchen, his brows still furrowed against the light.

He just wants you back in bed with him.

He reaches for your glass after you sip from it. You hand it to him. Jason takes the cold glass in his right hand, bends down a little, and wraps his left arm tight around the bottom of your bum. He stands back up, now with you draped over his shoulder.

You squeal out a fit of laughter, "Jay!"

He flicks off the light as he exits the kitchen, makes his way back into the hall, then kicks the door to your bedroom shut as he carries you in.

Gently, he sets you back down on the edge of the bed. Once you're properly seated, he hands your water back for you to finish. Seeing your bright smile makes his own lips tug into a small one.

Jason rakes his hands through his hair as you drink. He rubs his hands over his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes from a moment, trying to shake a bit of the sleep still clinging to him.

You hand him back the nearly finished glass of water. He watches you shuffled back under the covers, moving over to the wall-side. Your side. He finishes off the last two gulps of your water and sets the glass on the night stand.

He follows you under the covers, immediately pulling you close. He presses a kiss to your cheek and drops his head into the crook of your neck, an arm draped around your waist, the other tucked under his pillow. He kisses your shoulder and gently squeezes your waist once.

Your arms settle around him, "If you wanted cuddles you could’ve just asked, you know."

Jason only grumbles an incoherent response. He shuffles and presses closer to you, holding you tight.

You kiss his forehead and Jason starts to count.

Ahh!! I hope you like! This is lowkey rushed.

Also you can catch my personal headcanon of how Jason WILL keep his bed, with or without you in it, as far away from the window and door as possible. And you best believe that when you two share, you're getting the wall side so he can act as a barrier for any possible danger that may come in.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

--

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach. 

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her. 

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?” 

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.” 

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long. 

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore. 

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you. 

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights. 

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.” 

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you. 

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give. 

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes. 

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong. 

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.” 

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth. 

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck. 

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field. 

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed. 

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead. 

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too. 

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!” 

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before. 

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck. 

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.” 

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.” 

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?” 

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess. 

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that. 

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair. 

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.” 

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.” 

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.” 

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand.  “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry. 

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—” 

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does. 

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.” 

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done. 

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you. 

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look. 

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing. 

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness. 

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing. 

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused. 

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging. 

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist. 

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.  

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along. 

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

--

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ you're all caught up!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

--

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

[sunnyskiesscareme]

My Heart’s Racing, and it isn’t the Exercise

Luke Hughes x reader

Summary: Luke Hughes has a gym crush, and his brother wants a sister in law

Warnings: there’s a reference to like… dropping a weight on his head to induce memory loss, you’ll understand if you read it 😭 other than that, nothing!! (Unless u include Luke embarrassing himself but that’s just cuz he’s a cutie patootie)

Notes: I’m so sorry I’ve barely posted!! Uni is kicking my ass. Still, I appreciate all the support on my previous fics!! Y’all are so kind!! Also, a lil reference to the readers job as a hairdresser

Luke was sure that if y/n wasn’t here, he’d cry.

He had explicitly told his brother that he needed to be at the gym within 10am-11:30am, and no later. He hadn’t told him why, exactly, but he thought he made himself pretty clear anyhow. It wasn’t like Jack to be late to anything, but Jack had expressed that he believed you couldn’t be late to the gym in the first place. To him, it was a personal pleasure. Luke would have agreed if it weren’t for the girl with the strict schedule, who went everyday, at the same time, with no exceptions.

He couldn’t explain that to Jack without the certainty of him telling the whole Devil’s team about his little crush, and suddenly the chirping would go beyond anything he’d ever live down. So instead, when Jack would roll his eyes at his brother with a comment about being uptight, Luke would bite back with a reminder that Jack had assigned certain coats to certain hooks in the entrance way. Surely, Luke was not the uptight one in that apartment.

Jack had only hurried things up when his brother threatened to leave without him, jingling his keys and walking to the door with exaggerated stomps. Still, they had only left the house at 10:41, and for reasons unbeknownst to Jack, Luke had refused to switch to the gym nearest their building. It was 10:53 when they got there, and Luke ignored his brothers scolds for his crooked parking job, rushing to check who was at the girl’s favourite machine. It was then that Luke realized he had never learned her name. Had she ever even had a full conversation with him?

She was there, in all of her beauty, but Luke didn’t crack a smile. Instead, he walked over to the chest press for his warmup as if he had never seen her. His sudden stop-and-stare session did not go unnoticed by his brother, who not so subtly squinted his eyes in her direction, trying to find what had his little brother so dazed. His eyes flickered to the dejected look on his face, back to the girl, and then to the foot that Luke was subconsciously tapping. A knowing grin grew on Jack's face before he wiped it off with the back of his hand, wringing his wrist out in an act of preparation for his dead-lift warmup. He halted when he began to pass by Luke, stomping his foot on the ground exaggeratingly as he turned to his brother.

"Luke, Luke," Jack said, bending down to reach ear level with him. "You see that girl over there? The one on the, uh, the walking thingy?"

"The elliptical." Luke corrected, a little bit too fast. He’d learned the name of the machine a while ago, just in case he needed it one day.

"Yeah, whatever. She's real pretty, huh?"

Luke's eyes met Jack's so fast it hurt, and he blinked a couple of times to make the room stop spinning. His knuckles turned white at the grip he had on the bars of the machine, despite having paused the lifting to speak to his brother. "What- why?"

"I think I’m gonna ask her out."

"No!" Luke yelped, and those in the gym who weren't wearing headphones or struggling to breathe with the intensity of their workout glanced over at him curiously. His cheeks burned bright red, and Jack had to repress a smirk. "She’s," he shook his head, "She's not even your type."

“What? Of course she is. You don’t think she’s pretty?”

“She’s-!” Luke started, chest puffed up and eyes wide as he went to defend the girl. That was, until the smile on his brothers face looked a little bit too evil to be classified as adoring, and Luke squinted his eyes at him. “What are you trying to do here?”

Jack let out a girlish giggle and gave him a smack to his knee. “I think you think she’s pretty!”

“Shut up!” He wacked his brother right back.

“I think you’ve beaten me to her!”

“Jack, stop.” Luke begged, gripping his brothers wrist strongly enough for Jack to wince, his eyes wide as saucers.

Jack snickered, wringing out his wrist. He glanced back at the girl, whose machine beeped as she finished her cool down. “C’mon! She’s done. Go talk to her!”

“What? No!” Luke refused, his voice much quieter and harsher than his brothers. “No, she’s leaving anyway.”

Jack glanced at the girl again, who had finally stepped off of the machine and stood in front of a window. Her silhouette was black as she tipped her head towards the ceiling to chug down some water. He looked back at Luke. “I don’t think so… looks like she’s just having a drink before her next workout.”

“No.” Luke shook his head, certainty in his movements. “It’s 11:30. This is when she leaves.”

Luke seemed to have not realized the weight his words held before he said them, and quickly made himself busy with his machine before Jack’s head jerked foreword, his jaw dropped far enough that if he had dared to look, Luke would be able to count all of his teeth.

“Woah, woah, wait a minute!” He said, stepping in front of his little brother so that he had no casual excuse for avoiding his gaze. “Is this why you’ve been whining every day about when we get here?”

Luke cringed, ending his first rep early to stick an earbud in his ear. “I’m working out. Can’t hear ya.”

“Oh my god!” Jack gaped, yanking the earbud back out. “This is why I have to go to a gym 15 minutes away from my apartment- that has a gym in the building?”

“It’s only 10, don’t be such a baby.” Luke groaned, seeing no point in trying to hide his little secret any longer.

“Oh my god. Luke, I’m being serious right now, if you don’t go talk to her- I will.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.”

Luke’s eyes worriedly flicked back to where she stood before, but let out a breath when she wasn’t there anymore. He didn’t know wether it was of relief or disappointment, but he forced himself not to dwell on the weird feeling in his chest. “She’s… She’s gone anyways.”

Jacks head whipped to the window and then back to his brother so fast that Luke was surprised he wasn’t in pain. He quickly promised himself he’d give him pain if he looked at him like that any longer- his brows slightly furrowed, eyes more pitiful than annoyed. Jack let out a soft huff. “Next time then.”

---

Jack was ready before Luke was the next morning, bouncing on the balls of his feet on the mat in front of the door. Luke walked sluggishly, something he hadn’t done since he had first seen her. He was sure this would be the last day at her gym- certain he’d be too humiliated to return.

“Could you wipe that look off your face, please?” Luke asked, annoyed.

His grin only grew, flashing his recently fixed straight white teeth. “Why would I? Todays the day- Lukey Boy is getting a girlfriend!”

Luke rolled his eyes.

The 10 minute car ride was mostly silent. To Jack, it had felt like the longest ride he’d ever taken, even with all of the complaints he’d given about the length of the drive in the past. This was most certainly the worst of them all. To Luke, it had been the shortest. He’d listed multiple plans for certain scenarios in his head, noting that if he really needed to, there were weights near the elliptical she used that he could drop on his head if he needed to forget he’d ever seen her. Maybe his brother would feel bad enough to never bring it up again. He planned to run a few fast miles on a treadmill beforehand, so that he could build up some adrenaline, and blame his red face on the exercise.

Jack walked in with a pep in his step, only stopping when his brother suddenly grabbed his wrist. His face was white and his eyes wide, and Jack had never seen him so scared to talk to a girl before. “She’s gonna think I’m a creep.”

“No she won’t! Just… don’t be a creep, and you’ll be fine.”

Luke releases his brothers wrist to run a stressed hand down his face. “I hate you.”

“Luke, it’s gonna be fine, I’m telling you.” Jack tried to reason. He sent him a funny smile, “Plus, you’re in the NHL. what girl would say no to that?”

Luke didn’t laugh, and Jack licked his lip awkwardly. “Buddy, just do it. There’s no use comforting you now- she hasn’t even rejected you yet!”

“Yet!”

“No!” Jack gripped Luke’s shoulders tightly. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Now go. Now. It’s time.”

Luke almost tripped, his feet too nervous to react to the push his brother gave him. He prayed that it was too bright outside to see the reflection in the window her machine overlooked, and that she didn’t see any of that. He stood awkwardly a safe distance away from her, looking back at his brother who gave him a not-so-subtle thumbs up.

She was changing the song coming through her headphones when she felt the presence of someone next to her. She turned, startled when someone was actually there. He was tall, but had a young, sweet face. His hair was long enough for him to have to push behind his ear and she could imagine him hating it. Most people with curly or wavy hair did, she had learned from work, but his was her favourite texture to cut and work with. She’d recognized him well. He seemed to have a similar schedule to her, and she had used him as proof to her friends that she wasn’t uptight. He was too handsome to look at, she had decided one day. She couldn’t afford a gym crush, not when she was doing so well with her gym streak. It would complicate things. She flicked an earbud out, giving him a friendly, but curious smile.

“Hi.” He said, the word breathy.

“Hi.” She said back with a slight chuckle. “Did you need something?”

“Oh! Sorry, uh,” she didn’t notice Jack watching them, cringing at the way his brother stuttered. “I was wondering… if I could use that machine.”

She blinked at him, eyes flickering to the 3 other ellipticals lining the large window, still and unused. She nodded anyway. “Uh, yeah! Sure!” She said, stepping off and beside the guy, who looked much taller from the new angle. “Are, are the other ones not working?”

“Uh-“

“Nope!” She jumped at the loud voice behind her, looking right in time for her to miss how Jack stepped on the machines cord, unplugging it. He smacked his hand on the buttons exaggeratedly, proving to her that it wouldn’t turn on.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I’ve been hogging the only working one, haven’t I?”

“No, no! You’re okay. Uh, I just, um-“

“My brother thinks you’re pretty!” Jack blurted out, cutting off his stuttering.

Luke looked mortified, shoulders curling in on himself. Y/n reddened, her lips unintentionally curling up into a giddy smile. “Oh! Thank you!” She let out a nervous chuckle. “Um, you’re his brother?”

“I’m so sorry.” He said instead of answering, and she hoped he didn’t look so sick because his brother lied.

“Don’t be! I’m,” she let out another nervous chuckle, “I’m very flattered.”

“You should let him buy you a smoothie from the drink bar.” Jack suggested, grinning wildly. Y/n felt brave under his enthusiasm.

“Jack!” Luke pleaded, fists balled up.

“He doesn’t have to pay.” She said, and she smiled awkwardly at their intense gazes. “Uh, I mean… are you thirsty?”

“You want to get a smoothie with me?”

“Well, sure! Only if you tell me your name though.” She giggled

He looked at her, his gaping lips turning up into a smile. “Luke.”

Luke had never loved his brother more. He hadn’t listened as he came up with some excuse for leaving the two of them alone. Something about already having water or having to get his workout in while he could, Luke assumed. He didn’t really care. He had imagined a million ways his day could go, and he had somehow lived the one he didn’t think would ever happen. He smiled at her, panicking when she began to reach for the pack she had around her waist. “I’ll pay!”

She looked back up at him. “Wow! A cute boy calls me pretty and buys me a smoothie in one day? This isn’t what I imagined would happen when I walked into the gym today.” She giggled, walking with him.

“Yeah… neither did I.”

[girasollake]

Hi! Can I request a smut imagine with prompt 48 and trope 8 with Theodore Nott.

She’s a slytherin too and a badass bitch who everybody wants to be or date

Thank youuu!

✧ theodore nott x fem!reader x jealousy x "you. are. mine."✧

(this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )

this took longer than i expected, thank you for your request anon! x

told u guys i’d post smth… surprise!!!!

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v sex, some swear words, some slight cedric x reader, theo being bitchy ig, fingering, general sex stuff, orgasm denial, ummmmmm yeah i think that’s it

i’ll reread it later to fix mistakes cuz rn it’s 2 am where i live and i’m going to bed bye

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Your relationship with Theo was complicated. At least in your mind that was the most suitable word for this dynamic, you could never find anything else that would quite describe it. You were friends, that’s for sure, this was the only thing you were certain of. Some days you had found yourself tangled in his bedsheets, his soft fingers caressing your back as you lingered in his scent. But, there were also days when you didn’t speak to him at all, strolling through the halls and seeing him tug a piece of hair behind the ear of some Ravenclaw girl while simultaneously giving her his infamous smile. Even though you also flirted and went on dates with others, something inside your guts sunk down each time you saw him with a girl who was not you. And you could barely handle it. Every time you promised yourself you’ll never sleep with him again or give him your attention, you’d always end up doing the opposite. There was something about him that lured you in, it was toxic, but so divine. So, whenever his lips connected to yours in a hungry kiss, you’d forget about all of the other women he probably does this with. It was just you and him and your only thought during these moments was to stay with him like that forever.

‚-it’s not like it’s that important.’

‚Huh?’ You lifted your head and met Pansy’s annoyed face. ‚Sorry, what were you saying?’

¨What is going on with you lately?´She shook her head and sighed. ´I asked if you have a date for the ball.’ She then added.

‘Oh, well, not really.’ You shrugged.

‘Seriously? Is this about Theo again? I’ve told you multiple times that there is a fucking queue of guys just waiting for you and all you do is always go back to him.’ She huffed. ‘What about Mason? Louise? Henry? They were all head over heels for you, I don’t believe they didn’t ask you at least once.’

‘They did. I just said no.’ You mumbled and avoided her angry gaze.

SShe groaned and took a sip of her butterbeer. ‘I was not going to tell you this, but I see there is no other option.’ Pansy took a deep breath. ‘I heard the boys talking about the ball and Nott wants to take Arisa.’

You swallowed a big gulp in your throat and looked down into your drink. You expected that something like this would happen, you just didn’t think you wouldn’t be prepared to hear it.

‘’M sorry.’ She looked at your numb expression with caring eyes.

‘It’s okay Pans.’ You gave her a soft smile. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to move on.’

Even though you tried to not think about him for the next few days, it was unusually hard. He was on your mind non stop, like a song playing on repeat. On top of that, everyone was talking about the upcoming event. While walking through the halls you overheard people gossiping about the pairs, discussing what they are gonna wear and you were also a witness to roughly 7 performances of the boys creatively asking their crushes to go with them.

You walked into the courtyard and took a seat on the nearest free bench. You pulled out your sketchbook in hopes to finally draw something. Truth is, you didn’t remember the last time you practiced your beloved activity, not that you didn’t have time, you just didn’t have any ideas. This time wasn’t different, you looked around and then your gaze rested on the empty page before you. You made a soft line with your pencil and stopped, it was like your hand didn’t want to listen to your mind. You groaned and closed the sketchbook to put it in your bag again. While doing this, you felt a presence in front of you. Looking up, you saw Cedric Diggory, a charming smile plastered on his face.

‘Hi, do you have a moment?’ He asked and you stood up to face him.

‘Of course.’ You smiled.

‘I have a question.’

‘If you want my help with something, then no. I can barely finish my own essays and-‘

‘No, that’s..’ He chuckled. ‘I was wondering if you’d want to go to the ball with me?’

‘Oh..’ You bit your lip softly from the inside. ‘I.. I’ll think about it. Is that okay with you?’

‘Surely, just don’t take too long, darling.’ He sent you a wink and walked out of the courtyard.

Later that night you were studying in your dorm, soft music was playing in your headphones as you scribbled some sigils for one of the classes. Your back was turned to the door, so you didn’t hear that someone came in. It was the feeling of being observed that made you move your head to inspect the room and there he was. Theodore Nott stood next to your door, his arms were crossed and you couldn’t quite read his expression. You grabbed your headphones and took them off.

‘Knocking exists.’ You told him.

‘Not for me.’ He replied sternly.

‘What are you doing here, Theodore?’ You fixed your position on the bed so that you were fully facing him. ‘Don’t you have any other hoes to tend to?’

‘Are you going to the ball with Diggory?’ He avoided your question.

‘Why do you care?’ You stood up.

‘Answer me.’ He took a step closer to you.

‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.’

‘For fucks sake, stop being a brat and answer the question.’ He said through gritted teeth.

‘It’s none of your business.’ You replied while stepping closer to him and poking your finger into his chest.

His scent filled up your nose and you felt this forbidden feeling again. Your body was lustful, for him, but you couldn’t let him win again.

He chuckled, ‘See, that’s where you’re wrong.’

You scoffed, ‘Fine. Yes.’ You spat at him. ‘I’m going with Cedric. Is that what you wanted to hear?’

His eyes darkened at the confession, which wasn’t even true. You just wanted to get on his nerves and see what he would do. You didn’t even have time to react before he pinned you to the wall and hovered over you. Your breath hitched and you tried your best to avoid his eyes, because if you looked into them, you’d lose.

‘No, you’re not.’ He stated. ‘You are not going with anyone.’

‘Why? Why the fuck do you care so much?!’ Your eyes were glued to the ceiling.

He gripped your face with one of his hands and forced you to look at him. You closed your eyes.

‘You.’ He whispered and brought his lips closer to yours before breathily adding the rest. ‘Are. Mine.’

The sound of his voice was angelic and it sent a certain feeling down to your core. You tried your best to resist but your eyes fluttered open and met his. You lost.

He grabbed your face and connected your lips in a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth and cursed yourself in your mind. Why was he so addictive? Why couldn’t you quit? He just felt too good to be true. Kissing you in all the right places, his fingers touching where you needed him most, every time you felt him inside of you, it felt like heaven.

He took a few steps back and tried to not break the kiss. He pushed you onto the mattress and with one of his hands he pushed all the books off the bed. He left wet kisses along your jawline and you moaned at the feeling. He discarded both of your shirts and attached his lips to your chest, leaving a couple love bites along the way.

‘I want you to say it.’ He mumbled into your ear.

‘Hm?’ You were brought out of your trance.

‘I want you to admit you’re mine.’

‘But am I?’ He stopped kissing your neck and gripped your throat.

‘Are you?’ He raised his brow and smirked challengingly, knowing you’d fold under him.

You stared deep into his eyes and swallowed harshly because of his grip, before replying, ‘I’m yours.’

‘Good girl.’ He let go of your neck and connected your lips once again.

Soon enough both of you were a sweaty mess, clothes laying somewhere on the wooden floor, soft sounds escaping your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His breath on your neck and occasional kisses made you feel dizzy, his fingers making you squirm from the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough.

‘I need to feel you.’ You breathed out and Theo didn’t waste a second.

He positioned himself on top of you and slowly entered your aching pussy. You threw your head back and he used that to immediately attach his lips to your neck once again.

‘’S okay, darling. You’re doing so good f’me.’ He whispered to help you relax.

His voice made you let go of the tension in your lower body, finally allowing him to move at a pace so perfect for both of you. He lifted you up and spinned both of you, so that you were on top of him. His thrusts became quicker and stronger, one of his hands was caressing your breasts, while the other rubbed your clit so deliciously. You cried out his name a few times when you were close, but he always stopped just then. He just smirked every time and continued his actions, it turned him on, watching you whine on top of him. He felt he was getting closer to his release, so he sped up again, and this time his hand stayed on your sweet spot. You reached your high with a loud moan and threw your head back, your hand grabbing Theo’s arm. He released inside of you with a loud groan and you used that to push away his hand which was still rubbing circles on your bud, too sensitive for more. You collapsed on top of him and gave him a peck on his collarbone. Theo reached for the blanket and covered the two of you.

‘I lied.’ You mumbled.

‘What?’

‘I’m not going with Cedric.’ You replied softly. ‘I told him I’d think about it and..’

‘Good.’ He interrupted. ‘You’re going with me then.’

‘Am I?’ You looked up at him playfully. ‘I thought you were taking Arisa.’

‘Who?’ He replied and you giggled. ‘She asked me to go. But I refused.’

‘Why? She’s a nice girl.’

‘Maybe. But she isn’t you.’ He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ‘And I belong solely to you.’

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

@ girasollake 2024

[mrsrdlw]

My valentine

Summary: You and your best friend found a way to get away from all the valentine’s day by doing your own program. But, being alone for a long time only meant you two were horny and needy for affection.

wc: 3.3k (i got a little excited writing it, sorry)

warnings: friends to lovers; smut!!! +18 please (you’re responsible for yourself babe, but i warned you); fluff; masturbation (m!reciving); inexperienced!femreader. Tell if something is missing.

authors note: I know i’m a little late with valentines thing but i couldn’t help myself. I really liked the result and i hope you do too. It’s a new thing writing smutty things but i hope it’s not terrible. <3

*update*- i just posted a part two!

**********

It was valentine’s day and you felt like you were the loneliest person in the world. Everyone was with their partners when you were all by yourself. Of course you were being dramatic but you were tired of having to pretend that it was okay to be single because you don’t needed a boy to make you happy. But you wanted to.

The same thing happened to your best friend. Eddie was all by himself. He was never the guy the girls would die for. They were too scared to see how pretty he was. But he also had been feeling kind of alone. He would walk in the market and see all the decorations he hated so much. Not only in school, everywhere, people would be all over each other. He always hated valentine’s day but he never knew that was because of his jealousy and would always blame in the capitalism and its ways to persuade people.

As you both would be alone, to distract you from thinking about couples making out, you created your own thing. You would go at each other’s house to watch movies together, eat junk food and talk about stuff. For two years you’ve been doing this and this year was your time being a host. At this time, you got lucky your parents weren’t home for the week. In the first year, you brought Eddie home and your mom kept asking non stop questions about him and how did you finally realized you were made for each other.

“You’re late.” You opened the door for him, taking the boxes off his hands.

“I’m sorry my lady, is my butler work not good enough for you?” He said in a english accent mocking you. “There was a lot of people ordering pizzas too. They copied our idea.”

“Fine. I just took the cookies out of the oven.” You pointed to the baking sheet “What movies did you pick?”

“Well, let’s see.There is the movie you asked for with the cats”

“Did you take the right one? Or just some movie about a cat?”

“Is the Disney one, right? The Aristocats? I got this one, nightmare on elm street and fast times at ridgemont high.” Eddie only took this last one because Steve said ’there’s some very interesting scenes about a girl, if you know what i mean’. Of course Eddie knew the girl’s titties would show up, he’d never watched it because he thought it would be a shitty movie. “If i want to see boobs i’ll just watch porn or i’ll buy a magazine” he would say. But he really thought about it and that would be the only way to make you watch something like that with him.

Once he asked if girls watched porn and you just ignored the question. He wanted to see your reaction and he knew you would never watch something like that, let alone with a guy. It would be the closest thing to porn you’d watch.

Also it was a secret to no one that he had a little massive crush on you. Maybe it was a secret only for you. Eddie don’t even know when did it started. One day you were just a girl who he was friends with but suddenly you were much more then that. You were hot, interesting, cute, smart and he couldn’t help but be enamored with you. But he never did anything to change that, to afraid of making you run away from him. To him, in that situation, your relationship as friends was more important. He wouldn’t stand to lose you. So he buried his feelings deep down and pretended it that never happened.

“Eddie it’s not Halloween. We’re not watching that, you know i can’t sleep afterwards.”

“Alright, no horror movies” He discarded the movie

“So is gonna be aristocats and this other movie. Is this even good? I never saw it.” Of course you saw it. Since Dustin told you guys his girlfriend was a hotter version of Phoebe Cates you had to. You scolded him after.

“It was on the recommendation board so we’ll have to trust in that”

********

Eddie had never seen the Disney movie before. It was for kids but you always loved it since you were a little kid. And if you loved, he’d watch it for you (he would not admit but he loved it too). There you were in the second movie. You had seen it two years ago so you were focused on the movie. But with that, you forgot about the boobs

“Oh…” Your cheeks got red. Seeing that by yourself was ok. But right by Eddie’s side, you got embarrassed and tried not to look at the tv in front of you. In the meantime, he was looking at you to see your reaction.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know that would happen” He said trying to sound like he was surprised

“Don’t worry, i see this every day.”

Eddie didn’t payed attention in the movie anymore. Were you talking about porn?

When the movie ended you went to bed and Eddie came with you. Being friends for a long time made you so accustomed to be around each other that now you would insist that he would sleep with you in your bed and not on the couch.

He would not sleep if he kept the question to himself. He had to ask.

“Good night Eds. Thanks for today. It was really nice!”

“Sure sweetheart, i had a good time too!”

And the place got quiet. It was now or never.

“Hey… can i ask you something?”

You just hummed

“Well… Earlier, when we were watching the movie you said that you would see it everyday when we saw the girl’s titties. With that do you… you know, d’ya mean you see boobs everyday in like, porn?”

“What? Why would you say that?” You said looking at his face even though the room was dark

“I don’t know why it just came in my head like, come on!”

“Eddie… i’m a girl. I see them everyday because i have them. Just like every woman. Go sleep, will ya.”

Eddie don’t know if that make it better or worse. Not that he didn’t know you had boobs. Of course you had. But now, you had boobs, you’d watch them and everything came to Eddie as a movie. Or as a dream in witch it really did. Right by your side, in your bed, in your house. Eddie had a wet dream about you. I wasn’t the first time. But it was in you house, close to you. Till then, he was sleeping and his mind was working on making him hard by the images of you touching your boobs while you were fucked by him.

You had woken up first, not realizing his morning wood, you went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen to take a glass of water and came back. But now he’d moved and, in his sweatpants, his “situation” was pretty obvious.

That scared the shit out of you. What would you do? Should you go back to sleep? Or try to pretend you never saw it. You weren’t a boy, but that seemed to be very uncomfortable. Suddenly you got hot. Seeing his dick poking out in his pants, his bare torso shown by his shirt that was lifted up. His wild hair that framed his face. Of course you knew you had feelings for Eddie, but you never did anything to let him know. It was a secret only for you and you only. You couldn’t do anything about your best friend. Even if he had a boner and got you all worked up.

He started to move around and to wake up when he saw you sitting on the bed and looking at the ceiling. Before saying anything he felt it. “Holy fuck!” that’s what he thought. He started to panic. Did you saw it. Would he be fast enough to run to the bathroom and try to work on it. “No, you shithead, you can’t jerk in her bathroom”

You realize his movements and looked at him. You knew that he knew you knew. Now the blanket were covering him.

“Mornin” He said casually and you nodded you head, trying not to lend your eyes on his cock to see if you could still see his bulge. “You saw it, right?”

“Saw what? I-I just woke up!” You said a little to fast “I mean, i barely opened my eyes and- yeah, i saw it.” you stopped when you saw his expressions getting amused. If you already saw it, there wasn’t a reason to be concerned anymore.

“Don’t worry, that happens sometimes” he said as if he didn’t have any dreams. It was just normal

“What? Out of nowhere?”

“Yeah, sort of…” He said remembering you in his dream and resisting the urge to touch his cock

“Can’t you like, turn it off or something”

He laughed at you face. You were getting more and more uncomfortable and in the same time, a bit horny. “It’s not like the tv we watched last night. You can’t turn it off.”

“But…” You saw his face. He was looking at you “I don’t get it”

“Well, i don’t know how to explain it” He tried to sound confident about it “It’s like when your nipples get hard when you women get cold. It not a thing you control” That part was true. He couldn’t control his dick or his mind so he wouldn’t find you attractive.

“But it seems to be painful” You said looking at him getting up.

“It is a little. I’ll go to the bathroom to try to ‘turn it off’” He said giggling

“Wait Eddie!” He turned to you and now you could see how big he was. Even with his pants, it was visible. “You don’t have to do it by yourself. Can i do something? Like, can i help you?”

Eddie froze in place. He would go take a cold shower and have thoughts about random things that wasn’t you. He was not going to masturbate in there. Was he still dreaming?

“Sorry! Oh i’m so so sorry. I don’t know what i was thinking about” You regret when you saw how his face got to serious.

“No no no. Don’t be sorry. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” He sat again looking at you cover your face “I mean, we’re friends. Last time i checked, friends don’t usually give a handy to other friends.”

“I’m so fucking stupid and embarrassingly alone that i let this stupid date get in my mind. I don’t know…”

“Were you willing to do it? For real?” He was really curious to know if you would jerk him off. That had to mean something, right?

“I’m sorry, it’s fucking crazy!” Hugging your knees, you looked at him and forced your arms to open

“Come on, don’t be so harsh. Were you?”

You nodded to scared of his reactions to your horny attitudes

“I thought you were virgin and said you were inexperienced in everything”

“It can’t be that hard” You whispered and looked at his eyes. Those pleading eyes that were begging to go back in time but were just reassuring Eddie that the shower would not ‘turn it off’ anymore.

“What if i said i wanted you to do it, huh? Would that be to weird?”

Now it was your turn to be shocked. Now he was asking you to do it. Was it to weird? Maybe a little, but only because you never did it before and because it was your best friend.

“I don’t know Eddie… I think you just as crazy as me” He laughed at that

“I might be a little. But it’s a good thing” You were feeling more comfortable now. It was your Eddie again and not some guy you had a crush on. “I know what you’re thinking. But, don’t you think i never wondered how would it be to kiss you? You are the most amazing friend i could have and with that comes this feeling too. But i don’t want to lose you. You’re to important for me”

“You too. Honestly i’d be lost without you. But i also wonder how would it be, you know…”

You kept looking at him and he did the same. You were making sure that it was the right thing to do. The he closed the gap between you two. Bodies bonding and connecting to each other. Your lips were so soft. Eddie was sure he was in his dream now. His hands that before was holding your face, now went to your back, caressing your waist. And your hands ran from his shoulders to his hair, tugging some locks of it and making him groan.

Things heated up and he pulled you to his lap. His bulge was now touching your crotch. With his hands on your waist, he took advantage of that and encouraged you to move back and forth making you feel so good. The friction was perfect. His lips were perfect. The way he was kissing you like he waited his whole life for it. Separating to breathe, you leaned on him, your foreheads touching, but your movements continued slightly.

“For a very inexperienced girl, you’re a hell of a kisser. Damn, are you sure you’re telling the truth?” He said panting with his eyes closed and his lips curled to a smile. You smiled back

“Yeah, i assure you. Don’t make me feel like i’m too good though. I’m gonna get too cocky.”

“Tell that to him” He pressed you down on him and, once again, you felt his hard dick. ‘How can it be so hard?’ you thought

“Can i take of your pants?” you asked a little scared

“Sure thing, sweetheart” He was smiley. He helped you to take it off and wow. You were a little shocked. It was big. You thought about it for a second and you honestly thought he was not average.

“Can i say something too?” He nodded while he pulled you back to him. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now but i just wanted to tell you so you don’t have any expectations. I don’t even know if you have any-” You were talking super fast, Eddie had to shut you up with a kiss. “Sorry. I was saying that, i think i still need some time, you know, if you want to have actual sex.”

“It’s alright. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to here”

“But i really wanted to do this. To help you here.” You said running your hand from his chest to his lower belly and his cock twitched. You wasn’t expecting that to happen “Is this normal” He nodded and giggled

“Are you sure you want to do it? You know, i’m not proud to say it, but have jerked off before. Plenty of times actually. If you’re not comfortable doing it, it’s not a problem for me to do it by myself.” It was melting your heart in the way he was talking to you. Caring about you.

“Yes i am! I’m just… insecure about it. I don’t know how to-.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you how, alright?” It was you time to nod you head. “A’right then. First thing, we need it to be wet, so you’ll have to spit on you hand.”

You hesitated but gathered a good amount of saliva on your mouth and spited on your hand.

“That’s right. Very good. Now you can wrap your hand around it” You just didn’t know where to. Was he talking about the tip or the base. You went for the tip.

Groaning low, he cleared his throat “Good girl. Now you can just make some circles around the tip and then go down.” You did what you were told to and that seemed to work. Your foreheads, that were glued to this time, separated a little before he came back. Both of you looking at your hand moving around his red tip leaking pre cum.

“Is that normal?”

“It means it’s fucking good” Even his voice changed. It was getting rougher and lower.

“Can you guide me a little. I’m scared i’ll squeeze you too hard” you said and his hand wrapped around yours.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s better when is tight. I’ll let you know if it’s to much” He let you do it by yourself when you got the right rhythm and grip.

Your hand were moving tightly up and down. You didn’t know if it was there before, you didn’t notice because you were to focus, but his hands were squeezing your tights hard. You could feel your panties getting soaked. How come you were excited by jerking him off.

More of the liquid you saw before came out and you ran your thumb over it. He let out a moan that rambled inside you body.

“Can you, please, go a little faster than that” And that’s what you did. The moan you heard was the first of many others that came along. You had gathered, again, more saliva and thought that it would be nice to be even wetter than it was. So you separated a little from him, looking at his confused eyes trying to read you. You separated enough to bend down and to spit on it again, looking at his eyes roll back, throwing his head back. You came back to your position, proud that you did something good without him telling you.

Your movements got faster than before and he, restless panting, kissed you. You wanted to make him cum hard. So you separated the kiss, kept up the speed, flashing him your boobs. That was the final push for Eddie.

The way he grabbed you and moan at your ear was insanely hot. You watched ropes of cum come of his dick. Your hand were now with white and sticky cum.

“Holy fucking shit!” He panted for the last time and let go of his grip on you. “Are you really sure you’re inexperienced?”

“I might’ve heard some advice about it from some friends” You said getting out of his lap, but he stopped you

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve been up here for a while, i don’t want to hurt your legs. Besides, my hand is a little dirty.” He laughed a little

“Let’s clean up and come back here then.”

That’s what you did. When you came back, he pulled you to his chest and you started to talk.

“You know, i got hard because i had a wet dream about you. Probably because of the movie. But you were in a bikini like hers and, well… you know the rest.”

“Really? What a perv.” You laughed together. You couldn’t be more happy to let this felling out of your chest. You didn’t know for how long you could keep that from him.

“What i mean is that, i really hope you don’t think that i’m doing this just because i was hard and you were there to help. I like you, not in a friend way and, if you let me, i would like to make you my girlfriend one day, if you want. For real. Take you out to dates, stay together doing whatever the shit we’ll want, give you things that i know you will love. This kinda shit.”

“If you want to, i would love to be your girlfriend. And all of the things you mentioned. Well… you know, you already do all of that. The sex is new though.”

He laughed and kissed you passionately

“Great. Now, you’ll get see how much fun we’re gonna have” You spent the rest of your valentine’s day like this. Laughing and kissing each other.

[goldsainz]

MY LITTLE LOVE — one shot.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

2K CELEBRATION. MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @whatthefuckerr @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @ellswilliams @toomuchdelusion @alearicci

request: “hiii! 📀 either angsty Daniel or Lando with the song “Ex’s & Oh’s” by Elle King or “My little love” by Adele”

NOTE: this is my first mom/dad fic so i hope it’s good! also can someone laugh with me at the likes in the first post… i saw the oportunnity and ran with it (i named the child theodore… that’s like my top 1 on boy names so you’ll just have to deal with it😭) daniel’s text are in lowercase bc i realised too late that they were and i was too lazy to redo it, so pls ignore that

liked by maxverstappen1, claireholt and 507,283 others

yourusername mummy doesn’t like anyone else like you 👩‍👦

view all 7,610 comments

ynfan1 theo is too cute omg

ynfan2 idk but smth about daniel not liking or commenting hurts me so bad

⤷ danielfan1 take me back to 2021 when they were still together 💔

ynfan3 missing the times when they went on vacation with daniel

ynfan4 THEO IS THE CUTEST

danielfan2 max liking… i just know he shows daniel every single post😭

⤷ ynfan5 daniel still follows her so he probably sees them himself

ynfan6 MILF ALERT🚨‼️

user1 where are they now?

⤷ ynfan7 mallorca! y/n posted a story a couple days ago

danielfan4 DANIEL PLS COME BACK WE ALL MISS YOU

danielricciardo has posted an instagram story!

yourinstagram has posted an instagram story!

liked by danielricciardo, blakelively and 482,761 others

yourusername this is what i do when i’m alone 🙃

view all 7,241 comments

danielricciardo Theo misses you (but without the facemask)

⤷ yourusername which is why i can only put them on without him present

ynfan21 she still looks gorgeous even with a facemask

ynfan22 y/n content is always welcome🙌

danielfan21 im sorry… are we all just ignoring this daniely/n interaction???

⤷ ynfan23 for the sake of my sanity, yes

⤷ danielfan22 “theo misses you” AND YOU DO TOO MF

ynfan24 she’s so real for this post

ynfan25 DANIEL GET HER BACK YOU DUMBASS

danielfan23 no has served so hard while wearing a facemask quite like her

ynfan26 if their interaction is anything to go off of, the balloons were so from daniel

liked by yourusername, lando.jpg and 371,804 others

daniel3.jpg Family time

view all 5,576 comments

danielfan31 WE ARE SO BACK

danielfan32 the pic of y/n is giving domesticity to the max

ynfan31 THEO IS THE CUTEST KID EVER

danielfan33 “family time” you’re so down bad

ynfan32 did y’all not read y/n’s interview…

⤷ danielfan34 i did and i’m ignoring it😍

ynfan33 “talks about our relationship don’t really happen” my ass

danielfan35 it seems like they REALLY care for each other

danielfan36 theo be the matchmaker we need 🙏

[atomicami]

comfort crowd

boyfriend’s mom!abby anderson x fem!reader

- summary: you’ve been dating your boyfriend for 2 years now, until all of a sudden he starts to act differently around you. one night, you come over to his place to see him, only to discover that he’s out cheating on you with another girl. as a result, you receive comfort from the person you’d least expect—his mother.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, older/milf!abby, age gap (reader is 20, abby is 38), reader is in college, owen (he is mentioned a lot but does not make an appearance), mentions of past teen pregnancy, abby and owen are divorced, infidelity/cheating, reader has her first intimate experience with a woman, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), squirting, scissoring, slight edging, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else

- author’s note: it’s finally here, sorry this one took me so long…i’ve been a bit nervous to do this pairing but it did win the poll i posted a while back so yeah…i also have to say that this fic took a lot of work and effort for me to write out, so i really hope y’all enjoy it 🤍

You were wishing that your suspicions about your boyfriend weren’t true.

A little over two years ago was when you first met Andrew Anderson-Moore. It was during your senior year of high school and your family had just moved to the city as a result of a job offer that your father had received. Having to start over at a new school was scary for you, but meeting Andrew made that experience a little better.

The two of you connected instantly, and it didn’t take long for you both to start dating and make it official. On your first month anniversary of being together, you two decided to introduce each other to your families. You brought Andrew to meet both of your parents first, and he brought you to meet his dad first before meeting his mom a week later.

Now you’re in your third year of college, still maintaining your loyalty towards him, and you still keep in touch with his parents as well, preferably with his mom, Abigail.

You enjoyed being with Abigail just as much as you did with your boyfriend. She was always so attentive and caring towards you, she treated you as if you were her own. Ever since Andrew had introduced you to her, you’d always make sure to be formal towards her no matter what, even though she could truly care less about it.

“Hi, Ms. Anderson, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell her kindly, removing yourself from your boyfriend’s embrace to shake her hand.

She flashes a smile back at you as she shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart, there’s no need to be so formal though,” she tells you.

“Oh I’m sorry, Abigail—“

“Abby.” She corrects you. “Abby is just fine.”

You simply nod at her in response.

“Alright then, Abby.”

After dinner had passed that day, and you were bringing all the dishes to the sink to wash them, you ended up overhearing Abby say this to her son:

“Make sure you treat her well, Andrew. She’s a sweet girl, definitely a keeper.”

Even though you figured that Abby would be nothing more to you than your boyfriend’s mother, the way she said that to Andrew made you feel unusual inside…But you figured that you were feeling that way simply because it was just a genuine compliment from her.…right?

Since that day, you’ve been close with Abby since then, and Andrew has managed to treat you like royalty.

That is…until a couple of weeks ago when he arrived back from a guy’s trip with his father. You began to take note of the suspicious behavior he’s been having towards you lately. The way he’d hide his phone when he’s around you, how he’d avoid eye contact with you when you ask him about things, and how he’d leave every so often without telling you. It eventually got to the point where you needed to go and address it to him.

And that’s how you got here right now: sitting in your car in the driveway of his mom’s house on a gloomy Saturday night.

You muster up the courage to grab your bag and exit your car before locking it and walking the few steps over to the front door. After taking a deep breath, you step forward and knock on the door. Hoping it would be him answering the door, you’re quick to see Abby answer it instead. “Hey sweetheart,” she says to you. “What are you doing here so late?”

You look up to see Abby looking down at you with a soft smile. She was still in her scrubs with her white coat in her other hand, and with a bunch of little blonde flyaways sticking out of her hair. It looked like she had just gotten back from her shift at the hospital.

“Oh, Ms. Anderson…I was wondering if Andrew was here, by any chance? I need to talk to him about something.” you ask her, praying the answer would be what you’d expect it to be.

Abby let out a sigh and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart…Owen dropped him off this morning and he left the house right before I was about to leave for work. I honestly thought he’d be spending the day with you today.”

Although Andrew was an adult now, he still managed to make visits between his mom and dad. Abby and Owen have been divorced for years now, but at the very beginning, they were once dating as high school sweethearts. It wasn’t until Abby had gotten pregnant from him during her senior year, and as a result, he’d figured the best and most traditional way was for them to get married after graduation.

Things were good for the couple so far…until one day, shortly after Andrew’s first birthday, Abby had gotten home early from school only to find her husband in bed with another woman, which instantly led to them getting divorced with joint custody of their son. She felt like she should’ve been hurt and heartbroken about that, but for some reason she just…didn’t. It was almost as if she was falling out of love with Owen anyway, and his cheating was just the sign for her to divorce him.

Even though Abby was the victim in that situation, she didn’t want to tell Andrew about it so as to not damage his relationship with his father. Instead, she made sure to raise him to be a loyal, trustworthy man, just so he wouldn’t end up turning out to be just like his father.

She raised him to make sure that he wouldn’t end up hurting you.

You let out a sigh, looking over at your car before back at her. “Alright, um, I’ll just head out, then…”

As you were about to leave, you felt Abby’s hand gently grab your shoulder, causing you to turn around. “Hold on, um…would you like to come inside? I can’t have you driving around in this awful weather, maybe you can just wait for him in the meantime, yeah?”

You hesitated for a moment, but to be fair, Abby did have a point. It’s been storming so much these days, and based on the few drops you felt land on your shoulder, it seemed like it was going to happen again tonight.

You give Abby a nod, accepting her offer. She steps over to the side, clearing the way for you to enter inside before closing the door behind you.

“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Abby offers, gesturing you towards her couch. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and order some takeout if you’d like? I uh, don’t plan on doing anything tonight…” she continues, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

You nod back at her and set your bag down on the couch before sitting yourself down. “That’s alright with me…Thanks again, Ms. Anderson.”

“Abby, sweetheart,” she replies, correcting you.

“Right, thank you, Abby.”

You watch as she turns around and heads upstairs to her room. Once the shower turns on, you can’t help but get a feeling of deja vu passing through you, remembering that certain day like it was yesterday.

Now, the thought of being with a woman never really crossed your mind, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but find Abby to be so…attractive. You assumed it was just a silly little crush and set it aside because there was no way that Abby would see you as anything more than her son’s girlfriend.

But it wasn’t until about a month ago, that you decided to spend the night at Andrew’s place. It was around 1 am, and you had left Andrew’s bedroom to use the bathroom. As you were just about to go in, you couldn’t help but peek into Abby’s room as you were passing by.

The door of her bathroom was creaked open, the shower was currently running, and while Abby was undressing herself from her scrubs, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes fixed on her figure. Her back, her arms, her hands…you were feeling so attracted to her, to where a wave of arousal was hitting you instantly. You were getting so turned on by her in the way that you should be feeling towards her son instead.

Your gaze kept lingering on her, but once you noticed her blue eyes locking with yours, you quickly rushed back to Andrew’s room. This led you to have to wake up your boyfriend just to have sex with him, all with the sinful thoughts of his mother on your mind.

And even though neither you nor Abby brought up that incident the next morning, she had a strong feeling that those sounds that you were making that night were meant for her.

The sound of thunder startles you. You look out the window to see that it has already begun pouring outside. You were definitely going to be here for a while now, but you didn’t mind it. Abby always provided good company to you anyway.

You watch as the rain keeps pattering down, hitting the glass of the window. Your hand feels the vibration of your phone followed by a chime, causing you to look down at your screen and check the notification you just received.

Abby shuts off the water in the shower once she’s finished, making sure to keep it quick so as to not leave you waiting for so long. She then quickly changed into a shirt and sweatpants before shutting off the lights and leaving her bedroom.

As Abby began to head downstairs, she could hear a faint sniffling sound coming from the living room. It sounded like you were crying. This led to her rushing even quicker now to the living room, walking in to see you quietly crying, your dimly lit phone in one hand while your face was buried in the other, collecting all of your tears.

Concerned, she slowly began to approach you. “Hey, hey sweetheart…what’s the matter?” she asks calmly, sitting down next to you on the couch and placing a hand on your shoulder.

All you could do was shake your head in response. You were so choked up on your tears that you couldn’t even speak. You felt Abby get closer to you, trying to take a look at what was on your phone. You quickly hid it away from her, but it was too late. She had already caught a glimpse of the familiar figure that was on the screen.

Her hand makes contact with yours, trying to get ahold of your phone. “Let me see,” she tells you in a commanding, yet gentle tone.

You couldn’t help but give in, slowly loosening your grip on your phone, now letting her have it in her possession. Once the phone was in her hands she took a closer look at the screen, eyes widening in shock and disbelief. She couldn't believe what was seeing right now.

It was a picture of Andrew, her son, out at a party, with his lips attached to another girl’s, that clearly wasn’t his girlfriend.

Abby was just as shocked as you were. But she wasn’t just shocked. She was enraged, enraged at the fact that her own son had gone behind your back and hurt you like this. You were the sweetest, kindest soul she’d ever met, how could he, or anyone manage to break your heart with no remorse whatsoever?

Along with that, Abby couldn’t help but feel disappointed either. She spent the past twenty years raising her son to not be a cheat like his father was. But at that moment, after seeing that photo and the state you are in right now, she felt like she failed as a mother.

At that moment, she wanted to make things right.

Not only that…she wanted to make you forget about her son and make up for how he treated you.

Abby sets your phone down and reaches for her own that was on the coffee table. You try to stop her from doing so, knowing that she is going to call her son right now. “I-I tried calling h-him,” you choked out, grabbing at her forearms. “H-He didn’t respond.”

Abby gently shakes your hands away from her arms and grabs her phone before quickly unlocking it. “He’ll respond to me, sweetheart, trust me,” she tells you sternly, getting up from the couch and making her way back upstairs to her room before closing the door.

She was definitely right about that. It didn’t take long for you to hear the muffled shouting coming out of Abby’s room. Even through the thick walls of her house, you could hear her clear as day:

“Andrew, what the hell were you thinking?! Your girlfriend is here in my house, worried sick about you and you’re at a fucking party cheating on her with another girl?! I didn’t raise you to be like this. If you wanna keep this act up, then go stay with your father, Andrew. I don’t want you coming back here until I say otherwise.”

Despite that Abby was in your defense about this, you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed. You honestly wished you hadn’t come here in the first place. Even though it was storming harshly outside, you felt like the best thing was to just go home. This was the last place you wanted to be at right now.

Once Abby had finished talking on the phone, she then went back downstairs to the living room, only to see you heading towards the front door to leave. She quickly stops you before your hand grabs the doorknob. “Hey, where are you going? I told you it’s too dangerous for you to drive out there right now.”

You ignore her and make the effort to push her away and get to the door, but her strong figure wouldn’t budge at all. “I-I need to go, Ms. Anderson, I can’t—“ Your words get cut off as Abby begins to wrap her arms around you, enclosing your surroundings into a hug.

You couldn’t help but give in to her embrace, burying your face into her chest and sobbing into it, instantly staining the soft cotton of her shirt with your tears. The way you were acting right now was hurting Abby inside. It hurt her to know that her son was the one that caused your heart to break into a million pieces, especially knowing how much you loved him. She was willing to do anything right now to take that pain away from you.

“Listen, sweetheart…” She says, slightly pulling away to get a look at you. “I told Andrew to stay at Owen’s in the meantime, okay? You don’t have to worry about him coming here.” she takes another deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t raise my son to be like this, sweetheart…I’m sorry.”

You look up at her and shake your head in response. “I-It’s okay, Ms. Anderson, it’s not your fault…”

The warmth from one of her hands reaches your face, wiping the tears off of your cheeks “I’d like you to stay here for a bit, okay? I don’t want you going out in that storm and getting hurt…I can’t afford to lose what my son couldn’t keep.”

It was clear that Abby didn’t mean for that last sentence to slip, and she didn’t notice that she was thinking out loud until she saw your eyes widen in shock. You couldn’t help but wonder if Abby was having those same feelings towards you as well…

Your gaze shifts away for a second, and you quickly wipe the rest of your tears before looking back up at her. “As much as I’d like to, Ms. Anderson…I really don’t want to be here right now…Everything here just reminds me of him…”

You notice Abby hesitate for a moment. “Do you, uh, want to go to my room instead? Will that help?” she says, practically trying not to sound desperate. She resisted the need to beg for it, but if that was convincing enough for you to stay with her, she would be on her knees in an instant.

“Yeah…That would be a lot better, actually…”

Abby’s arm moves down to the small of your back before keeping you close to her side as you follow her upstairs to her bedroom, which was at the end of the hall. Before you go in, you couldn’t help but turn your head at the room you had just passed—Andrew’s bedroom. You were already thinking about having to eventually go in there and take your things out of his room. The thought of it was already making you sick.

Abby places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to get slightly startled before looking up at her. “You know you don’t have to go in there yet, right?” she assures you, squeezing your shoulder. “I can even get your things out of his room if you need me to.”

You simply nod and smile back at her as a silent ‘thank you’ before turning the knob of her bedroom and letting yourself in.

Upon entering, you realize how much Abby’s room differs from her son’s. Her room was painted in a shade of light blue, her bed was neatly made just as she had it in the morning. On your left, there was her dresser followed by some weights next to it, and on your right was the entrance to her bathroom. That same bathroom you had peeked into not that long ago.

“Your room is nice,” you tell her, your eyes still fixed on your surroundings. “Definitely a lot nicer than Andrew’s.”

Abby lets out a chuckle from behind. “Yeah, I know, he’s always been so unorganized.” she then hesitates for a moment before continuing. “However, there’s always been something in his room that mine doesn’t have…”

You slowly turn around to face her, noticing her starting to approach you. “What’s that?”

She stops in her tracks once she’s in front of you, gently placing her hand on your chin and lifting it up so you can see her.

“…you.”

A smile crept up on your face in reaction to her words. “Is that so? Well…”

You pause for a moment, looking at your surroundings before looking back up at her and leaning in, just close enough to where your lips were just inches away from hers.

“I like it better here anyway,” you whisper back to her.

And with that, Abby gives in and seals your words with a kiss, and you just can’t help but kiss her back. The both of you knew that this was wrong, Abby was your boyfriend’s mother for Christ’s sake.

But if it’s such a bad thing, why did it feel so good for the two of you?

You feel Abby’s hand in front of you, slightly pushing you back so you can sit down on her bed. Once you land on her bed, she drops down to her knees to your height, still maintaining her lips with yours before pulling them away momentarily to strip you down.

Her hands first meet with the hem of your shirt, gently tugging it upwards to get it off. You bring your hands up as she fully discards you from your shirt and toss it to the ground. As she now works on getting your jeans off, you unhook your bra and slowly remove it before tossing it next to your shirt.

Abby looks up for a moment, only for her gaze to linger at the mere sight of your topless self. “My god…” she says in awe, moving both of her hands to your tits. “You look so beautiful…I can’t believe he gets to see this…gets to touch this…”

With her hands still cupping your tits, she leans in to kiss one of them, causing a moan to escape from your mouth. One of her hands moves back to the button of your jeans, and she instantly gets them undone with just a single hand. Her mouth is soon off of your nipple followed by her other hand, now hardened just from the contact of her lips and fingers. You were easily getting so turned on by her, and she knew it.

However, now that your jeans were gone and your underwear was shifted to the side, you couldn’t help but stop her once she was about to dive in between your legs. “W-Wait…” you said, gently pushing her head away from your soaked cunt.

Abby paused her movements immediately, pulling her head away and looking up at you. “What? What is it?” she asks with some slight concern in her voice.

You hesitate for a moment. You genuinely don’t know how you’re going to be able to confess this to her.

“You, um…you don’t have to do it, i-if you don’t want to—“

“But I want to,” she replied firmly, instantly cutting off the rest of your words. “Do you not want me to?”

You shake your head quickly in response. “N-No, I do, I really do, I just thought—“

“Thought what? What did you think?” she asks you, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

It didn’t take long for Abby to get the message. She knew why you were being so hesitant about this. To her, it felt like she was one step away from finally being able to not only taste you but to give you the pleasure that you deserved. But to you, you couldn’t help but simply feel like a burden to her, just like how it was with her son.

“Wait a minute…Has Andrew not been doing this to you?”

Your gaze drifts off to the side, and she takes your lack of eye contact as a yes to her question.

Each of her hands was on your knees, and you could feel her tighten her grip on them a bit, but not to the point where it would hurt you. And even though you were looking away from her, you could see her shake her head in disbelief from the corner of your eye.

“I can’t believe him…” she mutters to herself with a sigh. “He really is just like his father.”

The warmth of her hand makes contact with the side of your face, tilting it back forward to face her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart…please let me make up for my son’s actions…let me give you the pleasure that you deserve. Will you let me do that? Please?”

You hesitate once again. The thought of having Abby give you even the slightest bit of pleasure felt overwhelming to you, but the fact that she was quite literally on her knees begging to do it to you turned you on even more. If anything, Abby was being more desperate than you were right now.

So you give in this time.

“Y-yes…” you whisper out quietly to her. “Go ahead…”

And with that, Abby’s hands meet together at the waistband of your underwear, fully pulling them down and off of your legs before spreading them even farther than before.

Her lips gently brush over your sensitive clit to kiss it, and the sudden contact causes you to involuntarily jerk back. You didn’t mean to do it, but it’s been so long since you’ve been touched before, that even the slightest touch on your pussy already makes you feel overstimulated.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Abby coos, gently squeezing your hips and bringing you closer to her face. “I’ve got you, just lie back and relax for me, sweetheart, okay? Nice and slow…”

You try your best to keep your cool right now, and even Abby tries to as well. It’s clearly taking everything in her to not just quickly dive into your pussy and devour you alive. But she knows how long it’s been for you. She knows that your body hasn’t been worshipped the way that it should be.

“God….you taste so good…sweetest little thing I’ve ever had…” she murmurs into your pussy, slowly increasing the speed of her fingers.

You couldn’t help but watch in awe at the sight of Abby right now. Andrew was never willing to even put his mouth near your pussy, while his mother here was on her knees eating you like a woman starved.

“Mmmh, g-go faster, please…” you quietly whine out to her, grinding your hips against both of her thick fingers that were inside you.

You didn’t need to say anything else for Abby to instantly obey your command. Her fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy even faster than before. They were going in so deep to the point where the tip of her middle finger easily tapped into your g spot, and you absolutely loved it.

Before you knew it, Abby’s fingers and mouth were going at an extremely rapid pace inside you, so fast to the point where you were gripping onto the edge of the bed to hold yourself down.

That feeling was quickly building up inside you now, you were going to cum at any moment. However, something about that feeling felt unusual to you. It was almost as if you needed to stop what she was doing to you.

So you do. You try to warn her, even grab at her wrist to slow down.

“A-Abby, wait—oh God—fuck!”

As much as you tried, you couldn’t warn her in time. Your body had already done its deed, your pussy uncontrollably squirting into her mouth and on her fingers as you reached your peak. The rest of your body felt limp, and your brain was feeling slightly fuzzy from your orgasm.

You felt Abby shift around in between your legs to stand back up, which led you to muster up the energy to sit up on the bed. Your eyes widen at the mess you’ve just created. Everything—Abby’s face, her clothes, her sheets, your legs—was all soaked with your release.

You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by it, quickly closing up your legs and bringing your knees to your face. “A-Abby, I’m so sorry I—I didn’t mean to do that…I tried to—“

“Hey hey, it’s okay sweetheart…Don’t feel bad…” she murmurs out to you, gently caressing your face with one hand while bringing both of your knees back down with the other. “Did it feel good?”

You nod slowly as she looks back down at you. “Yes, it did…Better than—”

“Better than him, right?”

“Yeah. Better than him.”

A smile flashes on Abby’s face as she leans in to kiss your lips, letting you taste a bit of yourself in the process. “Then you shouldn’t be sorry, sweetheart,” she tells you as she pulls away. “Lie down on the back of the bed, princess. I'm not done with you just yet.”

You simply oblige, sitting yourself up and scooting to the back of her bed, lying your head down on top of her pillows that were stacked in front of the headboard. You watch as Abby wipes her face and licks her fingers clean before stripping herself out of her clothes. Just like last time, you couldn’t help but admire her broad, muscular figure. And it wasn't just her figure, it was just everything about her. Her bright blue eyes, her freckled skin, her luscious blond hair…You just felt so mesmerized by her. You felt an attraction to her that just couldn’t compete with Andrew at all.

Your eyes follow her movements as she leans down over her bottom bedside drawer and opens it for a moment before shaking her head and closing it. It didn’t take much for you to be able to see the strap she owned, alongside the few other toys she had in there.

The weight of the bed soon shifts down as she hovers herself over you. “Are you…are you not gonna fuck me?” you ask her quietly.

Abby nods her head as she adjusts the pillows on the back of your head to make you feel more comfortable. “I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart, just not with those,” she says as she shifts back and begins to position herself in between your legs. “I'm gonna fuck you in a way that no man, not even my own son, could ever do with you. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly, eager to find out how she’s going to do this. However, you didn’t know what to do about it either. “Wait, but how do I—”

“You don’t have to do anything, okay princess? All you have to do is just look pretty for me while I do the work. Lie back and relax for me, just like before, yeah?”

You nod again, resting your upper body back on the bed as Abby continues to maneuver herself over you. She lifts up one of your legs and places it over her shoulder, and then brings her free hand down to her pussy and spreads her lips open with two of her fingers. You could easily see that she was just as wet as you were right now.

She then places her wet pussy on top of yours and you easily gasp at the newfound feeling of it. The way her lips molded perfectly against yours, along with how her arousal was practically dripping on top of your tight hole had you reeling.

“Oh fuck,” Abby mutters out, further pressing herself down on top of you. “Your pussy feels even better against me like this.”

Abby begins to grind her pussy against yours, causing you to moan over the friction. You understand that Abby wants to take her time with you right now, but God was she being so painfully slow with this. You were desperately craving for some more friction already, but you felt too shy to tell her. So you end up weakly grinding your hips instead.

“Whoa there,” Abby says, placing a hand on your hip to keep you steady. “Looks like someone’s eager for more…You want me to go faster, princess? Is that what you want?”

“Y-Yes, p-please Abby…g-go faster…” you whine out to her, continuing to grind against her pussy.

“Needy girl…” she mutters as she increases her pace. “Not even a minute with my pussy and she already wants more…I bet it feels better than any cock you’ve ever had, hm?”

All you could do at this point was babble and whine in response. The feeling of Abby’s wet cunt against yours was getting you easily drunk. You look down and watch Abby place a thumb on your hood, lifting it to expose your throbbing clit to her. She then placed her clit right on top of yours before grinding even faster than before.

The sudden overstimulation caused your eyes to flutter themselves shut and your head to tilt back in pleasure against the stack of pillows behind you. Your body soon starts to feel limp again and the familiar fuzziness in your brain soon returns again. At this point, Abby was practically using your pussy to get herself off. But as long as you kept feeling the delicious friction of her clit rubbing against yours, you didn’t mind at all.

Abby suddenly tightens her grip on your leg, leading you to open your eyes and look back at her. Her brows were furrowed in concentration with her gaze fixed on both pussies. You could hear her quietly whimpering to herself while the muscles in her abdomen were contracting and tensing up as she kept quickly grinding herself against your pussy.

At first, you couldn’t tell what she was trying to do with herself. But it didn’t take you too long to realize why her body was doing these things.

Abby was waiting for you to cum first.

You were at a loss for words at the moment. Andrew never cared about that. He would always be done the second he’d finish, meanwhile, Abby was sacrificing her own pleasure just to make you cum a second time.

“A-Are you close, sweetheart?” Abby moans out to you, keeping her hands firm against you as she continues to rub her pussy onto yours.

“Y-Yes, fuck—” you whimper back as you begin to quickly grind your hips against hers. “D-don't stop, Abby…m’so close…”

At this point, the noises that the two of you were making right now were borderline pornographic. Between your moans and whines with Abby’s grunts, along with the wet squelching sound of both of your pussies rubbing against one another, it's honestly surprising how you haven’t woken up the neighbors by now.

“Fuck, Abby—'m gonna cum, fuck!” you tell her as you grip the bedsheets while continuing to rub your clit with hers.

Within seconds, your pussy began to quickly clench around Abby’s while instantly cumming right on top of it. Once Abby felt that you were emptied out, she soon let her body relax before cumming onto your pussy as well with a broken moan.

Once the both of you have recovered from each other's climaxes, Abby presses a soft kiss to your ankle before gently getting your leg off of her shoulder and setting it back down.

Feeling drunk from your orgasm, you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, hardly feeling the movements of Abby cleaning you up and tucking you into a fresh set of sheets. Your eyes open back up again once Abby has her arm wrapped around you from behind. “Abby, that was…that felt amazing..” you whisper out to her.

Abby lets out a chuckle before gently kissing the back of your shoulder. “I’m glad I could make up for it, sweetheart,” she whispers back to you.

You turn your head around for a moment to face her. “Are you sure I can spend the night here with you?” you ask her shyly.

Abby smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss on your lips before responding. “Of course you can, sweetheart…you know I told him not to come back,” she reassures you, gently caressing the side of your face with her hand. “You’re in good hands with me, I promise.”

You smile at her before turning back around and pressing yourself closer to her as she keeps you tightly wrapped in her embrace. The security that Abby was giving you right now was more than enough to make you instantly drift off to sleep, secretly wishing that the night that you’d spent with your boyfriend’s mother could now last a lifetime.

And little did you know, Abby was also wishing the same thing too.

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[hoseokieswrld]

STILL DON'T KNOW MY NAME | JJK (M)

CHAPTER ONE:

Pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader

Summary: In which a video game streamer, Jeon Jungkook, finds— and is intrigued by— an account that writes nsfw fanfiction about him and decides to send them a private message. He still doesn’t know your name.

Genre: smut, pwp, internet strangers to lovers

Category: three-shot

Collab with: @dollfaceksj —> her masterlist

Banner by: @archivedkookie

WARNINGS: sexting, explicit sexual content, strong language, pornography, cybersex, exchanging in nude photos, hidden identities

total word count: 4.7k. masterlist next part—>

“Ah, fuck! He got me where I couldn’t see him!”Jungkook yells into his microphone, frustrated at his followers during his twitch stream. “Damn it, I was so close.” Jungkook puts his face into his palms, looking at his monitor and seeing all the comments being left in the chat.

User386290: Damn jk he got your ass lmao

Jkssideh0e: aww kook dw you're still fine asf

Jungkook ignores the thirst comments. They don’t make him uncomfortable, he’s just used to them. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the thirst comments and they actually give him a little ego boost. Whenever he loses at something, he tends to get very annoyed and end the stream.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned and that honestly killed the mood,” Jungkook weakly laughs. “It's getting late and I’ve already been streaming for two and a half hour anyway, so I think I’m gonna end the stream guys, sorry.” He turns his attention to his camera. There seems to be lots of women in today's stream judging from the comments left in the chat.

Kookswrld: noooo dont go yet bby >:(

Ashln00: im gonna miss ur sexy ass

yrma4l: leaving us already wow whtevr

“Don’t worry, guys. I’ll stream tomorrow night at the same time and I’ll be posting some clips of tonight's stream later on my Twitter and Instagram for you guys to rewatch.” He’s really appreciative of his followers and he enjoys seeing them beg him to stay on stream, even if some of the comments are sometimes a little out of pocket.

“Okay, I’m gonna hop off the stream now. Thanks to everybody who joined and donated on my stream today. I really appreciate you guys, and tomorrow I’ll come back on and play COD with some of you guys too. Goodnight, everyone!” Jungkook waves as the comments bid him goodbye.

Jkssideh0e: bye bby

Cl0v3r2000: see u tmw sexy

Jeoncjungk: byeee!! :)

_elicticmoonl1ght: you did so well today baby ill def tune in tmw ;))

Jungkook smiles at the pet names, not being able to contain his flusteredness from the camera. The compliments he gets from his followers are much flirtier to him.

Jungkook has been streaming for a little over a year now. At first, it started out as a silly little hobby when he had some free time after his friend Taehyung suggested he should start streaming. After a while, more and more people started to join and watch his lives. Not only was Jungkook good at video games but he was also insanely attractive, one of the reasons he has such a large female audience. After gaining more followers by the day, his once-a-week streams became twice a week, which then resulted in five times a week. Jungkook never thought his love for video games would get him this far, it was only a silly hobby of his. A year later, he has 1 million followers that watch and share his streams. He truly loves his followers.

Jungkook finally ends the two and a half hour stream. He gets up, washes up for the night before he gets into bed. He’s had a pretty long day between photography sessions he does on the side and streaming, so he’s glad he has time to lie down in bed and edit videos for the night.

After posting, he decides to scroll through his feed on twitter since he hasn’t all day.

@lili57_: Jungkook on his stream today tho?!! Yall gotta hold me back fr he is TOO fine my god.

@jjkkoooks: jk got another tattoo?? he is wattpad come to life 😛

That’s until he scrolls on his Twitter timeline and notices a familiar username.

_elicticmoonl1ght

Where did he recognize that name from? He thinks long and hard from his stream’s chat today, and finally remembers. This definitely has to be the same user from earlier, so the only logical thing Jungkook thinks to do is press on the account’s page.

“Holy shit,” are the first words that come out of his mouth as his eyes practically bulge out of his skull.

“NSFW 18+ ONLY ACCOUNT DEDICATED TO JEON JUNGKOOK” were the first words in your bio…and then the multiple threads of sexual content you write about Jungkook.

A whole nsfw account dedicated to me? I didn’t think people would go out of their day to write explcit stories about me. Jungkook’s thoughts are clouding his mind. He knows he has very loyal followers who watch and share all his streams, but this? Jungkook would have never thought in a million years that people would make porn accounts about him. He’s just a regular dude in his 20s who likes to play video games.

Jungkook decides to go through your page, each post making him more flustered the more he scrolls down. Fuck, do you know how to write, he thinks to himself, truly amazed at how you write each scenario to every last detail, making it sound realistic. That is until he almost cums on the spot, heart racing faster than ever when he comes across one of your most updated posts:

"Mmh, fuck, Kook. Right there, please, don't stop," I whine into the comforter of the mattress while my boyfriend pounds into my soaked pussy from behind, knocking the breath out of my lungs.

"Yeah, baby, like that? I'm gonna make this pussy squirt for me," Jungkook groans out, going harder and faster on me, constantly spanking my ass to make sure he leaves his mark.

Jungkook is starting to get way too hard for his liking. He is so incredibly turned on by your writing, he has never expected to grow an erection from reading fictional porn about him. He mentally debates with himself whether jerking off to this is weird or not, but then realizes he hasn’t gotten himself off in days.

Porn isn’t doing it for him anymore, so he hasn’t watched it in weeks. He feels like the porn now isn’t real or natural. A girl screaming her head off like she was getting murdered was not even remotely hot to him, so he hasn’t had the desire to watch anything of the sort. Jungkook also had a few sneaky links here and there, but hasn’t hooked up with any in months. Unfortunately, he felt like they got too clingy and they even started to expect more from him. So now that he’s by himself, jerking off to this doesn’t seem like a bad idea, especially if it’s about him.

Oh, fuck it, Jungkook surrenders to himself and pulls down his sweatpants just past his balls, cock springing to life and hitting his stomach. Jungkook quickly scrambles to open his bedside table to pull out his lotion he uses for times like these. Impatiently, he squirts a good amount of the lotion into his palm and wraps his large tattooed hand around his throbbing cock.

Jungkook’s body jerks from the sensation of his lotioned hand stroking his sensitive cock, slightly squeezing the tip. His veiny cock twitches, begging for a release of some sort. His chest slightly heaves, forgetting how pleasing himself every once in a while can feel so good. “Mhm- Fuck,” he sighs quietly, picking up his phone to continue reading your post.

“Gonna cum, Kook, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” I mewl out from the immense amount of pleasure my boyfriend is giving me with his huge girthy cock, constantly rubbing against my g-spot. He shuts me up with a rough steamy kiss, never slowing down the pace of his hard thrusts. My back slightly starts hurting from being so deeply arched for him, but I can’t say I don’t like it.

He pulls away from the kiss, a long string of saliva connecting the both of our lips still. “Yeah, you're gonna cum for me? All talk until I give your bratty ass attention.” Jungkook says through gritted teeth, wrapping a hand in my hair and pulling it backwards to expose my beautiful, untouched neck to him. He leans in, harshly nibbling and sucking on my skin, leaving it bruised and bitten. I can’t help but admit defeat and whimper under his touch.

“I’m still being a cunt, right? Isn’t that what you said earlier? Huh, baby? Answer me.” Jungkook pulls on my hair again, waiting for my reply. He can’t help but go harder from my desperation, tears building up in the corners of my eyes from how hard he’s gripping my hair.

Jungkook can’t stop reading, finding your bratty attitude so fucking hot, imagining himself fucking into your tight, warm pussy faster. He gets more comfortable in bed, laying down as he squeezes the tip of his cock with every stroke of his large hand, more and more precum spilling out fromhis tip. His lips become red and swollen from biting down on them in a lousy attempt to contain his little whines and groans.

What makes this even hotter is him not knowing what you look like, sending him into a horny headspace. Still fisting his hard, lengthy cock, he gathers spit in his mouth, letting it dribble from his lips onto the head of his swollen dick, a little saliva getting caught in his dark pubes. He whines as he feels some of his saliva dripping down to his balls, the sound of fapping noises filling the room.

“N-no, Kook, you’re not. M’sorry, please- fuck,” I plead my boyfriend as he palms my tits under my tank top, letting the straps fall off my shoulders. He continues to feel me up, occasionally twisting and pinching my sensitive nipples.

Your words and writing make him imagine you, a mystery girl, begging him to fuck you. This is exactly what he likes. His cock only oozes more precum and begs for release. Jungkook takes off his shirt and the rest of his sweats, fully naked in the darkness of his bedroom. He wipes the layer of sweat off of his forehead and massages his balls a bit more, the sensation too good to stop.

“Gonna give what you want baby, yeah?” He finally lets me cum after teasing and torturing me for far too long.

This is the part Jungkook’s been waiting for. The tension building up was enough to get him excited, but this is the part he’s been looking forward to the most. This is what has him thrilled, reading about him finally letting you cum. He can’t describe how badly he wants your tight, velvety walls wrapping around his thick cock. Jungkook recreates the feeling of it by squeezing his hard member with his large palm, moaning a little louder than before.

“Fuck- I’m cumming,” I whine, wrapping my legs around his waist forcing him closer to me.

Is this girl keeping tabs on him? Jungkook can’t tell if he finds it weird or hot that this is exactly how he likes it in real life. He loves how his hands grip your thighs and his fingers sink into the supple flesh. For him, it's the best position. Hitting it from behind. Reading about it makes this ten times better. The way he has a close look at a girl's pussy and ass, her back arched so deeply into the mattress; it only shows how much more power he has over her in bed. He simply loves it. Jungkook can already feel himself getting closer, but wants to finish reading before he cums.

Jungkook keeps a hard steady pace, never losing track of his harsh pace. I can feel his cock throb inside of me, knowing that he’s close to cumming.

“Oh- fuck,” Jungkook groans, imagining him doing this in real life. The way you describe yourself for him is a major turn on, wishing you weren’t just a fake scenario but in his room instead. Fuck, he never knew he could be so envious of his ownself. His cock spurts even more precum than before, the darkness of his bedroom full of skin slapping sounds from the way he jerks himself off so fast. He can only imagine his lotioned hand being your tight soaked cunt.

I finally cum, legs shaking from how powerful my orgasm is. I dig my nails into Jungkook’s big arms when he doesn’t stop fucking into me. Being so fucked out like this drives himcloser to his high, his body collapsing on top of mine as he thrusts into me a few more times as I clench and tear up from the overstimulation.

“Fuck, baby, gonna cum inside you. That okay with you?” Jungkook desperately speaks out into my ear, waiting for my permission.

“Yeah, cum inside me, want your cum in me so bad, Kook.”

Your begging is enough to send Jungkook over the edge. He whines loudly, arm on fire from how hard he jerks himself off, chest heaving. He bites his lip harder, sticking his tongue out to play with his piercings, abs clenching as he’s only a few seconds away from cumming.

Jungkook finally cums inside of me with his final thrust, making my cunt feel so full.

“Fuckkk,” Jungkook groans out as he finally releases all over his stomach and hand, palm never slowing down while stroking his throbbing cock. It drips down in thick layers over his tattooed fingers, falling onto his dark pubic hair. Jungkook swears he’s never cum that hard from masturbating in his life.

He takes a second to recollect himself, still slightly in a daze. Jungkook points his attention downward to his stomach, heaving up and down with every breath. He notices the way his cum sticks to his big fingers. He slightly rubs his cock a little more, the feeling too good to stop, the loose skin going up and down with every stroke.

He stops after a few seconds, being slightly overstimulated. He reaches over to his bedside table, grabbing a few tissues and wiping off the cum from his stomach and lotion from his hand. Jungkook can’t lie, he really enjoyed reading and getting off to that, and wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again. He could scroll all night reading all of your horny thoughts and posts, you are really good at it.

That's when he gets an idea. He obviously can’t keep stalking and liking your posts from his professional streaming account, that would just blow his cover.

He quickly logs out of his personal account and creates a new burner account with the username ian_97. Jungkook quickly sets up his account making it look less like a fake bot account which results in him putting a picture of his dog, Bam, as the profile picture. He quickly edits his bio which consists of his real age and where he's from. There’s no way you’d think it's actually Jungkook who's following and liking all your posts. Would you even notice his account? You already have 3,000 followers who like and interact with all your posts, mostly being fanpages of him, so there isn’t much to worry about.

Jungkook follows your account, liking a bunch of your posts. He hates himself for getting a little hard, but nothing he can't sleep off. He wonders how you even found him and got interested enough to make an entire nsfw account about him. He’s not complaining though, he finds it hot as fuck.

Jungkook checks the time. ‘It's 12:30 am already? That means I've been reading through her account for like an hour, holy shit.’ Jungkook blinks at how long he’s been caught up in your page. He sighs, plugging his phone into the charger, deciding it's time to get some sleep. Jungkook remembers the long list of errands he has to carry out tomorrow morning which partially makes him annoyed but not much since he needs to get out of the house. He soon falls asleep peacefully, with you on his mind.

——————————————————————————-

A week and a half has passed since Jungkook’s little smut reading session and finding your page. Since then, he’s gotten so busy with life, doing the photography sessions he does on the side, home chores, and taking care of Bam which is a huge chore in itself. For some reason, he’s had a huge rush in which people want to book with him. Jungkook is glad people enjoy his work, don't get him wrong, but it's more complicated than it seems.

Jungkook spends hours if not days editing all the pictures he’s taken, and him being a perfectionist does not make it a quick task. Getting caught up with all of this ends in him not streaming in over a week, knowing his followers have been begging him to go live. He misses his followers a bunch, and needs to take his mind off things, so after he finishes editing all his pictures and sending them to his clients, he decides to go live.

“Hey everyone, miss me? Sorry I’ve been gone for a while, I got caught up in a lot with some personal matters. And yes, I’ve seen all your tweets begging me to go live and play COD. Well, your wish has been granted!” Jungkook enthusiastically states while reading the comments.

jjkgf613: finally we missed u!!

hoe4.jk: HES BACKKKKK!!!

kookiejjar: heyy hope you're alright :(

“Thanks guys, I missed y’all too, and don’t worry! I’m okay, just been putting a lot of stuff off that needed to be done. Other than that, it's all good! I’m back to streaming for you guys.” Jungkook is glad he has so many people that care for him, he couldn’t ask for better, more supportive followers.

kookswrld: yayyy we got our jungkook back :0

Jungkook chuckles and smiles, but it quickly drops from his face as his eyes drop to the comment right under it.

_elictmoonl1ght: missed u !

Jungkook’s cock twitches in his sweats, memories flooding back in from almost 2 weeks ago when he got off your posts. Fuck, how could I forget? He mentally argues with himself on how that totally slipped his mind. He wonders if you noticed his burner account following you or if you wrote more posts on your page about him. Jungkook quickly snaps out of it, clearing his throat, remembering he’s live streaming with 300k people watching.

“A-ahem, sorry guys, I thought I heard Bam or something. Uhm, let's just get back to the stream.” Jungkook clears his throat, trying to play off the long awkward pause in his stream, cheeks heating when he realizes how deep he was in his thoughts about you. Fuck, he needs to get a grip.

Fortunately, Jungkook is well distracted in his game and interacting with his followers for the past 2 hours, making up for his almost 2 weeks absence. He yawns as he glances at the clock above his screen which reads 10:39 pm. It's late and his eyes are starting to burn from staring at the screen for too long, deciding it's time to end the stream.

“Okay guys, it's getting late so I think I’m going to end the stream. Thank you guys for playing with me, I had a lot of fun reconnecting with y'all. I’ll definitely be going live again soon this week. Don’t forget to check out Instagram and Twitter for more updates. Love you guys, goodnight! ” Jungkook waves at his camera above his monitor, giving his fans a genuine sweet smile. The comments bid him goodbye.

Kookiejjar: gn <33

User386290: seen u soon

Jkssideh0e: gn bf :)))

Jungkook ends the stream, exhausted but happy he got to go live. Streaming is his main source of income, but he does it because he enjoys it, not because it makes him the most money. Also, he makes money off of his sponsorships and photography sessions. Jungkook is pretty financially stable for a 27 year old, it's just him and Bam.

Jungkook cooks himself a small late night meal after his stream, remembering he didn’t get the chance to eat dinner. He makes his favorite go-to meal: spicy buldak ramen. Even though he might regret it later, he doesn’t care, eager to finally eat something after a few hours.

Jungkook finishes his meal and washes all the dishes he used, then puts Bam back into his play pen. He feels sweaty and dirty after his long day, deciding to take a nice hot shower before bed. He relaxes under the shower faucet, not realizing how tense he is. Fuck, loosen up man, he mentally puts himself in check. Jungkook has piled up a lot of stress this past week and a half. Embarrassingly, he hasn’t gotten himself off or had sex in even longer. Jungkook freezes as he remembers earlier events from his day.

“_elictmoonl1ght: missed u!”

Jungkook quickly finishes his shower, turning off the faucet, drying himself off at the speed of light, not even bothering to put on any clothes. He sprints to his bed, rips his phone off its charger and clicks on Twitter.

Jungkook’s stomach bubbles in excitement wondering how much he’s missed your account. He switches from his personal streaming account to his burner, immediately pressing onto your profile. The first thing he sees is an off guard picture of his side profile with the tip of his pink tongue playing with his lips rings from today's stream. He looks so focused and sexy, yet his cock twitches when he reads the caption:

@_elictmoonl1ght: the nose, the piercings, the jaw line, his lips THE TONGUE??!!! needa to ride his face until he begs me to stop. Fuck, i swear he gets more fine everytime he streams :P

Jungkook throws his phone to the side, stripping from his clothings. He throws his shirt and boxers somewhere on the floor of his room, lying down on his bed. Impatiently, he spits into the palm of his hand, too eager to get up and grab his lotion, and places his hand on his cock, stroking until it's firm.

His long and large fingers wrap around his veiny dick, sticky and wet from his saliva. He lets out a small whimper, cock a little sensitive from not being able to get off for almost two weeks. His cock is red, spurting a bit of precum just from imagining how horny you must’ve been when you wrote about him. Jungkook wishes you were with him right now, stroking his hard cock for him, begging him to cum for you.

He continues to scroll down your page, exclusively looking for explicit posts you’ve written about him. A few swipes later, he finds a new and different story you’ve posted. Jungkook presses on the thread and begins reading, smiling from excitement.

Jungkook roughly pushes me onto the bed, stripping me of my clothes.

“Wet as fuck, baby. All for me, right?” Jungkook eyes down my figure, pulling me to the edge of the bed as he takes off my shorts, leaving me in only my underwear.

“Yeah, Kook, just for you, please don’t tease,.” I beg Jungkook as he traces my slit through my panties, sticking them more to my core than before.

Jungkook quickens the pace he strokes his cock at, imagining you, the mystery writer, laying spread out in front of him in your little panties, giving him a full view of your ass and pussy. If you were here, he’d toy with your pussy outside of your underwear, tracing his finger over your lower lips, making sure to press down on your tight, soaked hole, smacking your ass after watching it jiggle. His pace never stops, nipples becoming hard from the cold air in his room, yet every other part of his body is on fire.

“Gonna give you what you want,” Jungkook begins as he pulls down my panties and throws them onto the floor. He lowers himself in front of me, eyeing my soaked cunt, clit begging for some sort of stimulation. He begins by kissing my inner thighs a few times, occasionally biting on them, causing me to whimper in pain.

After a minute of teasing, he finally brings his lips to my cunt, giving it a long, slow lick from my hole to my clit.

“Shit,” Jungkook groans, eating pussy is one of his favorite things to do. It’s crazy how you’ve been writing about all the things he likes. His cock twitches at the thought of having his head between your thighs, imagining your pussy to be plump and soaked for him, clit throbbing whenever his nose bumps into it. He groans out, never stopping the pace he strokes his veiny cock at, wishing he could have the taste of you in his mouth.

“L-like that, Kook,.” I beg him as he devours me like I’m his last meal. He doesn’t take a moment to breathe, but instead constantly sucks on my clit, occasionally moving down to lick at my quivering hole. However, he stops and removes his face from my pussy. His face is covered in my wetness, some of it on the tip of his nose to his chin.

“Sit up,” he demands me while he lays down on his back. That's it? He’s not going to finish the job?

I sit up and stare at him in confusion when the next few words he says makes my pussy clench in desire.

“Ride my face. C’mon, babe.” Jungkook urges me to straddle his face. I’ve never sat on his face, but I’m not opposed to it.

I straddle him, his eyes staring straight into mine as he grabs the back of my thighs, wasting no time in urging me to sit on his face. When I finally lower myself onto him, I jolt from the pleasure. His nose begins to hit directly onto my clit, wet tongue proding at my hole.

“Fuck, feels so good, Kook, d-dont stop,” I plead him, my legs shaking on each side of his head. His tongue and nose constantly working on my pussy has me lightheaded, my words becoming squeals and whines. I decide to be bold, slightly rocking my hips back and forth across his face, lifting myself up every few seconds to let him breathe.

Jungkook fists his cock at a fast, rough pace. Your words were perfect and made it so realistic to imagine. Jungkook pants, “Fuckkk mh- yeah, like that, baby,” as he imagines you humping his face. His balls tighten, thinking about how tight and wet your pussy probably is. He dreams of your plump pussy constantly rubbing onto his nose and lips, maybe even feeling some of your shortly trimmed pubes brush against his skin.

Jungkook is so fucking close, losing it at the thought of your wetness still connecting your pussy to his mouth. His stomach clenches, eyes squeezing shut, feeling a dribble of sweat running down his defined abs. His cock is harder than ever in these past two weeks. His cock is begging to release all the cum he’s been holding in, balls tensing at the thought of cumming everywhere.

Jungkook can tell I’m close by the way I have a tight grip on his hair, and my constant begs to cum. He eventually complies and gives a final kiss to my pussy.

“Want you to come now. That good with you, baby?” He says as he shoves his mouth onto my poor swollen pussy, not even giving me the chance to answer him.

Jungkook doesn’t stop with his rough sucking and licks, determined to make me cum all over his face. My moans and begs are louder than before, my hands gripping his long, luscious hair. He brings all his attention to my clit, sucking on it harshly. My stomach snaps from all the pressure.

“Mh- cumming, Kook. C-cumming,” I cry out as I ride out my high on his tongue and lips, not stopping until I soak his entire face.

Jungkook finally reaches his breaking point, hot white cum coating the back of his hand and stomach, a little seeping onto his belly button. He continues to milk his cock dry until he whimpers from the overstimulation. He just can’t stop. Not knowing who you are or how you look makes the situation even hotter. You don’t have to show him how you look, your words are just enough to make him cum.

Jungkook finally stops stroking his cock, but leaves his tattooed hand there. It might’ve been the little bit of horniness left in him, but he decides to be a little bold. He clicks on your account, scrolls to the top of your page and presses the little message button in the top right corner, and at that he sends you the message.

“hey, your writing is amazing and i cant lie turns me on a lot. Wanna see if u can put those words to good use bby:)”

——————————————————————————

a/n: hi guys! i really hope you enjoyed part 1 of sdkmn! this is my very first fic ever and im glad to share it yall finally!! i have no idea when part 2 will be sooo pls dont ask LOL but i hope yall enjoyed it and are ready for the next part! pls don’t be shy to share or reblog they are very much appreciated! id also like to thank @dollfaceksj and @peachypinkygloss for helping me so much through the writing process and making this story 10x better!! my asks are always open and i hope yall stay tuned for part 2! thank youuu🫶🏻🥹💞 -eli

taglist:

@dollfaceksj @nini_07777 @ahgasegotarmy116 @jm1003myg @gxtwllsn @babycandy111

@kelly-fushiguro345 @jksjx @earth2fae @kissyfacekoo @s3l3n0phil3 @llallaaa @kingofbodyrolls @jkslaugh97 @diorh0seokie e @rooonilwaazlib @Rosymermaidsinthesand @taebae19 @honeeybunneey @lesoleile @kookssecret @butterymin @ohsweetmimosa

@i-like-puppy-mg @screamertannie

[amakumos]

MEET ME IN MONTE CARLO. — jake sim. (teaser)

SYNOPSIS. As a Formula 1 driver, being competitive is just in Ferrari driver Jake Sim's blood. Perhaps Jake cares about winning too much though, because during his conquest for the world title, he loses you. It isn't until 2 years later when you show up at the Monaco Grand Prix with his main rival, Red Bull driver Park Sunghoon, when Jake finds himself determined to not only fight for the championship, but also to fight for you.

GENRE. fluff, angst, exes to enemies (one-sided ish) to lovers

PAIRING. formula 1 driver! jake x fem! reader

WARNINGS. none in the teaser. in the fic, cursing, mentions of car crashes and accidents

ESTIMATED RELEASE DATE. late march, early april

WORD COUNT. 20k ish, teaser is 883 words

AUTHOR'S NOTE. well... this will be my second to last fic for the meantime! i'm excited to drop this one. i've been working on it for quite a while now. here's a formula 1 fic starring our very own jake sim :) i hope you enjoy this little teaser, and the taglist is open so just pop in an ask if you'd like to be tagged when i post this <3

TAGLIST IS OPEN, send in an ask if you’d like to be added!

You were the first person that Jake Sim ever loved. You were there at his first Formula 1 race, you were there at his first race win, and you were there for his first world title win. A series of firsts. 

But, Jake Sim has first breakup on the list as well. 

He always regrets how things ended between you two – it was messy, it was awful, and it left him crying at 3 in the morning in his apartment. 

Jake isn’t certain about many things in his life. But what Jake is 100% certain of, is that the breakup was all his fault.

You had screamed at him, and he knew that he deserved it. You were slowly slipping away from his grasp, and Jake allowed that to happen as he chased another world title so desperately. So desperately to the point that he would end up neglecting you. 

Forgotten dates, forgotten anniversaries, and forgotten birthdays. Text messages would be left unread for days when he was in some other unfamiliar city, as you walked to your lectures with a heavy heart and the stream of his race playing in the back of your phone as you waited for a response. You wore red every time he had a race, for Ferrari, for him, even as your relationship was crumbling. 

“I’m sorry,” he had choked out. “It is difficult.” 

You looked at him with bloodshot eyes and shaking fists. “It is. And you’re chasing your dreams, but… I can’t be with you if it’s like this. The past few months have been like we weren’t even dating in the first place.” 

Jake gulps. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

“I want to try,” you had said with an exasperated sigh, and Jake knows that you’re tired. He’s going at maximum speed, and you’re left trailing behind him. He’s so far ahead, and you know you’ve lost all hope of catching up. But you say those words anyway. “Please tell me you’ll try.” 

Jake doesn’t say a word. Because he knows that he won’t be able to. He wants to say yes, so badly. He wants to hug you, he wants to kiss you, and he wants to commit. Just as he commits to his races, to the championship, to Ferrari. 

But he can’t. Not a single word leaves his lips, and his silence is enough of an answer for you. “Oh,” you say, and Jake doesn’t miss the way your voice quivers, and your lower lip trembles. You’re dressed in red, Ferrari’s colour – his colour. “Okay.” 

“I’m sorry.” he told you. 

“It’s important to you.” you pressed your lips together in a thin line. “I understand.”

You say that, but Jake knows that you don’t. He knows nobody would ever be able to understand choosing to win over choosing someone you love. But Jake is committed to racing. He is committed to win. 

Yet, he’s not committed to you. The one who’s been with him through thick and thin, the one who’d catch red-eye flights to find him in some unfamiliar city to watch him win, the one who’d go through hell and back for him if it meant that he’d be happy. 

He can’t do the same for you, and he hates that. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, and you simply shook your head. You don’t have anything more to say to him, so you quietly pack your things. “I’m sorry.” 

Before you opened the door to leave, you took one last look at Jake. “I hope you figure out whatever’s going on in your life.” You don’t say anything more, and that is the last time Jake Sim ever sees you again. 

He doesn’t know what you’re doing either, because you’d deleted your Instagram account, starting a new one where none of his fans could keep up to date with you. The only way he knows how you’re doing is updates from Heeseung's girlfriend Yoona, who goes on trips with you often. He sees his fans constantly wondering if you’re doing well, and Jake finds it funny how he’s got the same exact question.

He drowns himself further in training, in racing, in wanting to become the best after the split. He wins, he wins, and he wins again – and that feeling of euphoria when he stands on the podium never leaves. It fills him with a joy like no other, and it reminds Jake why he does this. He wants to win. He wants to be the best – no, he is the best. 

Winning means the world to Jake Sim. Racing is in his blood – he does it to hear the crowds scream his name, he does it to lift that trophy on the top step of the podium, and he does it to feel the overwhelming pride in his chest when he crosses that chequered flag first. 

But he’s been so focused on winning, and he’s lost his everything. 

His everything is the girl who went to his first race. His everything is the girl who would tire herself by studying during the day, and catching long flights to the cities where he’d race in to support him. 

And his everything had left him 2 years ago in his apartment in Monte Carlo, Monaco, with teary eyes and a red dress. 

[gurugirl]

Liar | bfd!harry

Summary: Harry's wife suspects something is going on but she doesn't know what. Harry can't stay away from you and you don't want him to.

Word Count: 6.1k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, lying, cheating, age gap, angst

bfd!harry masterlist

Harry’s phone kept lighting up from its spot on your bedroom floor. It slid out of his pocket in his haste to take his pants off and get you into your bed. You hadn’t even bothered to turn the lights on before you were spread out and naked under him.

You also hadn’t even made your bed that day. Normally you at least pulled the blankets up and placed the pillows at the headboard but it felt like such a daunting task before your date with Evan that you just didn’t bother.

But you didn’t want to think about Evan when you were with Harry after he’d just admitted he loved you.

Harry fingered you slowly as he kept his mouth over yours, “Just wanna keep kissing you. Never want to stop,” he whispered his words into your mouth as he thrusted his thick fingers into you.

And he didn’t stop kissing you. Not when you came on his fingers. Not when he wiped your arousal onto your leg as he positioned himself between your soft thighs. Not when he pushed his dick inside of you. Not when he brought you and himself to orgasm slowly.

His lips were soft but urgent. You came so hard when he glued his hips to yours and rocked into you, never letting his cock slip out too far.

And when he pulled you onto his chest after he landed on his back, he rubbed your spine and kissed your shoulder and your neck, “Never gonna be so careless with you again. Promise you.”

You always loved basking in the afterglow with Harry but this time was different. He had told you he loved you. You both felt it with each movement and each breath. Harry’s hands held your thighs as he pushed in and in and in and it was all love and emotion. He was showing you what he could with his body and you were happy to receive it.

You both fell asleep with smiles on your faces and you woke up hot and sticky on top of him. He was holding you tight. You attempted to move yourself off of him but he only tightened his grip. You heard him grunt, “Stay.”

And that turned into you slipping down onto his hard cock once again, whispering I love yous to one another as your chest stayed pressed to his. The soft rocking of your hips over his with his hands on your ass guiding you over him slowly. The springs in your mattress squeaked gently as his phone illuminated. But it didn’t stop you. It didn’t stop him.

You both kept at it. Until you’d come to your end again. You gasped his name and he groaned, spilling himself into you as deep as he could, lifting his hips and slicking in until it was impossible to reach further into you.

Even on the comedown, his phone lit up.

You both knew it was Mrs. Styles wondering where her husband was. It was nearly 2 am by then. He’d left his house hours ago and hadn’t returned.

“You should text her back so she’s not worried, Harry. At least,” you spoke quietly as you ran your fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp. He was still inside of you.

He sighed and grumbled something before lifting you off of him, “I know. I’m just not sure what I’m gonna tell her. I meant to go back home hours ago. It’s late. This is not something I’ve ever done before.”

Obviously. You wanted to say but refrained as you watched Harry get off the bed and bend down to pick up his cell phone. Multiple missed calls and texts.

He sat down on the bed and smoothed his hand up your thigh, “I should probably go. I’ll figure something out to tell her. I’m sorry, pup.”

You sat up and leaned yourself into him, kissing his chest and feeling his come dribble down your thigh as you moved, “It’s okay. I understand.”

.           .           .

Harry was in trouble. He knew it when he woke up in your apartment and realized how late it was. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep but having you in his arms, post orgasm was like a drug that put him under. And throwing caution to the wind he stupidly fucked you again, wasting nearly 25 minutes more, instead of leaving.

He also knew he was in trouble when he pulled into his driveway and saw the lights on coming from his study.

He didn’t have anything in his study that would give him away. Some receipts maybe, but nothing major. And he’d hidden the receipts for anything he bought you very well. He hoped.

The moment the door was closed and the deadbolt latched his wife came quickly out of his study to confront him.

“Where have you been? I’ve been worried! Do you not have your phone on you?!”

Harry rubbed his face and realized he could still smell you on his hand. He’d cleaned up but, in his rush, he clearly hadn’t gotten all the traces of you off.

“I just had a bad week, at work, and I needed some air and went to the park near the lake and… I fell asleep in the car. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

And the look on Mrs. Styles’ face told him she didn’t believe him. He was definitely in trouble.

Why would she believe him? It was a terrible lie. Harry really didn’t know what he could tell her. He felt of all the excuses he could come up with (during the 20-minute drive home), the one he decided to go with, while quite outlandish and not particularly believable, was the most believable of them all.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning before you leave for your workout. I’ve put some pillows and blankets on the couch in your study. You can sleep in there tonight.” She turned before pausing and looking over her shoulder at her husband, “I’m glad you’re okay, though.”

Harry felt awful. He hated making his wife worry or having her upset with him. But he deserved her anger.

He’d just been so out of his mind wondering what you were doing on your date he couldn’t see or think straight. He left the house in a rush. He told his wife he was running out and would be back soon. And he intended on returning after a couple of hours at the most. But he’d left around 8 pm and had been gone for over six hours.

And even as guilty and bad as he felt, he slept rather soundly on his couch in his study. Perhaps it was that you’d forgiven him. Or the two orgasms. Both probably.

When he woke up to his phone alarm he smelled coffee already. He knew he was going to need to give her a better explanation. But what could he say? What things could he tell her that would quell her questions? Mrs. Styles was smart. She was no pushover. He couldn’t just act as if whatever happened was no big deal. Not responding to her in all those hours? That was a big red flag.

“How’d you sleep?” His wife was sat at their small dine-in kitchen table sipping her coffee. She was already dressed and ready for the day.

“Pretty good. Was tired. How about you?” He poured himself a mug of coffee and joined her at the table.

“Like shit.” She looked down at her mug and sighed, “You lied to me last night,” She looked back into his eyes. “And that makes me wonder how many other times you’ve lied and I’ve just not noticed it.”

His stomach felt sour. She knew he lied. Of course, his excuse was shit.

Nodding his head he stayed quiet. He didn’t know what to say. Of course, if she knew what he’d really been up to their conversation would be going in a very different direction.

“Say something. Tell me what you were doing, Harry.  I deserve to know the truth.”

Inhaling a deep sigh he leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table, “I’m sorry. I’ve just been… I don’t know. Maybe I’m going through a mid-life crisis or something. I’m anxious and depressed and it feels like there’s no way out of how I feel–“

His sentence was cut off by her palm coming down sharply on the table and causing his mug to rattle, splashing the hot liquid over the lip of the cup, “Cut the shit! So what? We’re all anxious and depressed Harry!” She stood up and put her hands on her hips as she walked toward the sink and her shoulders dropped before gripping the counter’s edge, “Why didn’t you at least reach out to me? Were you with someone?”

Harry felt he was being choked of air. Was he with someone? Why yes, he was. Someone that he loves in a way he shouldn’t. Someone that he was having sex with while his wife’s calls and texts were being ignored. He felt like he was losing it.

“No. I just needed to be by myself. And I’m sorry I did it that way. I didn’t…” he inhaled to catch his breath, “think. I didn’t think. I wasn’t thinking about you or how you must have felt. I’m sorry. That was selfish.” At least the last part of his excuse wasn’t a lie.

Mrs. Styles turned back to look at her husband as she crossed her arms over her pretty silk shirt, “I know you didn’t think. And I know that I never crossed your mind last night, whatever it is you were doing, you certainly didn’t consider me at all.”

He looked at his wife and blinked his eyes as she stayed cool and steady. She hadn’t been crying. Or at least it didn’t appear that way.

“And I know you’re lying. I can’t explain how I know… I just… I’ve been with you for such a long time that I just know, Harry. And,” she pushed herself from the counter and walked across the kitchen to the hutch where she picked up her keys, “I found a sex toy in a box in your study last night. Care to tell me what that’s for?”

He forgot about that. The toy he bought for you. Forgot that he’d brought it back with him. He’d put it out of his mind, “It was for us. I… we haven’t used a toy in a long time and thought it would be fun–“

Her laugh cut him, “Of course, you’d say that. And how would I know if you were being honest at this point? Just return it. I’ve no intention of letting you use that on me. Not after all this.”

“Hey… I know that you don’t belie–“

“You’re right. I don’t believe you. Not right now. I’m leaving to go stay with my sister for a while. I think if you really feel like you need space, I’ll happily give it to you because I don’t want to be around you when you’re acting like this.” She paused and looked over her husband with his messy bedhead and shook her head, hating how handsome he was, “Just…” she flailed her arms, “get this out of your system. Whatever it is. And if I find out you’re cheating on me,” she laughed darkly, not a hint of humor, “God, I can’t even think about that right now.”

Harry nodded and stood from his chair but did not move from his spot at the table. He wanted to hug her and hold her and tell her everything. The whole truth. Ask for her to be lenient on him. Beg for her to go easy. Explain that he didn’t mean to fall in love with someone else. Tell her he’d give her anything she wanted. But to just give him grace.

But he did none of that. Like the coward he was starting to realize he was, he stood there and watched as his wife plucked up her suitcase and her purse and walked out the front door.

.           .           .

Your shift was grueling. It was Sunday brunch. The restaurant was packed. Reservations were always made well in advance. No one could just walk in and get a seat. But the nice thing about that was that you knew pretty much what to expect when you arrived and looked at the schedule and saw your tables and how many you’d be serving. Some even had pre-ordered certain things to make it even easier. Though the breakfast and brunch hours were the hardest.

When your new table came in at 1:00 pm you stopped in your tracks as you realized who was at the table. And instead of putting on a fake smile and calming yourself down you turned and walked back into the kitchen. You needed to take a moment to really collect yourself.

Mrs. Styles was there at your table, with three other women. She was dressed in a lovely lavender silk shirt with black twill pants. After what had happened just the night before, well, technically that very morning, you were sure Mrs. Styles wouldn’t be in a great mood. Her husband had avoided her for hours and hadn’t told her where he was. And as her husband was coming inside of you, giving you your third orgasm of the night, she was blowing up his phone that was lying on your bedroom floor.

When you’d gathered yourself as much as was possible you stepped out into the dining room and feigned surprise, “Hi! Oh, it’s so nice to see you, Mrs. Styles,” you greeted warmly. There was no way she’d ever assume you had anything to do with Harry’s being gone for hours the night before. You tried to keep that at the forefront of your mind as you smiled at the small group at the table.

“Y/n! I forgot you worked here! Wow, what a surprise!” Mrs. Styles turned to look at the other women at the table, “Ladies this is Fae’s best friend. Such a sweet and smart girl. Looks like we got the best waitress here. I guess my day’s already looking better,” she laughed, and the other women smiled and laughed with her.

Her comment was like a surgical slice into your heart. You swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah. I’m so lucky to be serving you today. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

After their orders were placed, a round of bottomless mimosas for each, you’d calmed from your initial surprise of seeing her. Everything seemed rather normal. Perhaps she wasn’t worried about Harry being home so late. You wondered what lie he told her. What kind of excuse he had.

But after Mrs. Styles ordered her fourth mimosa you realized things weren’t normal at all. The champagne had her spilling some details within your earshot. She was just loud enough that you could hear bits and pieces of what she was telling the other women she was with.

“And he didn’t even try and correct me when I mentioned cheating. Just stood there with his mouth wide open,” one of the women had her hand on Mrs. Styles’ shoulder, rubbing gently.

Through the breakfast you heard comments from the other women, words of advice, bits of encouragement, “Maybe he is just going through a mid-life crisis like he said. Marvin went through a phase last year. Would spend hours in the garage away from the family…”

You stood at the table and smiled as the woman finished her anecdotal story until eyes were on you, “Anything else ladies? More mimosas? Pan de chocolate?”

They’d been there for close to three hours by the time they finally decided to get the check. Mrs. Styles was a tiny bit tipsy as they left the restaurant and you learned that she was staying with her sister, one of the women who was with her at the table.

Now you were dying to know what had happened between her and Harry. She was clearly not doing well knowing that Harry had been gone all night. Understandably.

When your shift was over you got into your car and checked your messages. Normally you had a text from Mr. Styles. At least a good morning text but there was nothing.

Hi. How did everything go last night? Just got off work.

You drove to your apartment with your head in the clouds, made-up images of Harry and his wife fighting about him being gone all night. Harry being devasted when she left him to stay with her sister. Harry begging her to come back.

By the time you pulled your emergency break up in your car and shut your engine off your mood was lower than it had been all day. You hoped Harry was okay but you hated the circumstances of everything. And the night before was great. You were absolutely thrilled to have him with you but again, the burden of the guilt was tearing at your seams. At his.

After a shower you saw a missed text notification and your heart lifted. Throwing your hair up into a towel and picking your phone up with a big smile you opened the text and realized it was from the wrong man.

Would you be up for a picnic in the park? There’s a festival downtown and I was thinking it would be fun to check out.

Sighing you opened the text you’d sent to Harry to see that he’d read it but hadn’t responded. Your heart sunk back into the place it had been right before you’d gotten out of the shower.

I’m exhausted. Was a long day at work. Can I have a raincheck?

You knew you needed to tell Evan that you were seeing someone else. That it wasn’t going to work, but part of you didn’t know if maybe you should leave that door open a bit. Because what if Harry realized after all that he couldn’t be with you anymore? What if Mrs. Styles leaving had him coming to his senses? Despite him telling you he loved you, which you knew he meant, it still might not be enough for him to continue seeing you.

You tried to busy yourself. For an entire hour after realizing that Harry had seen your text but had not responded, you picked up a few things, tossed out the old and dying flowers, combined fresh flowers with ones that had not died from older bouquets… everything reminded you of him.

The sudden knocking on your door had you startled. It was nearly 6:30 pm and you couldn’t be sure it was him, but your heart leaped with hope as you quickly padded across your floor to the front door.

The moment you saw his face through the peephole you opened your door in haste and it felt like one of those cheesy Lifetime movie scenes where the man has come to claim his woman in some desperate bid to win her affections back.

He had his leather overnight bag in hand and he pushed you into your apartment, one arm pulling you into his chest, with his foot closing the door behind him. His mouth was on yours before you even heard the thud of his bag drop onto the floor and then both of his arms were wrapped around your middle.

Your world was spinning and your heart crashed under your rib cage as you moved your mouth with his. Soft and urgent. Not unlike the kiss from the night before when he had you coming so hard you saw stars.

You felt ridiculous as you started to tremble in his arms. Definitely felt as if you were enacting a cheesy romance scene from a B movie.

“My sweet girl. God…” Harry finally parted from the kiss, his big hands splayed across your low back as you both stood in front of your door, “I think I only feel okay when I’m with you. I tried… I don’t know. Everything is so fucked up.”

You cupped his face and bent yourself away so you could look at his eyes, “I know. It really is.”

You got two glasses of water and both stood in your kitchen as Harry told you what had happened with his wife. The night before and then that morning.

“And I thought… maybe this was a wake-up call for me. But,” he shook his head and looked at you softly, “I can’t be away from you. I can’t do it. You’re not just some pretty girl that I enjoy being around. I’m genuinely in love with you. I know I said it last night but having her leave this morning and thinking about it all day and trying to take time to be alone I realize I don’t want this, with you, to ever be over.”

You knew how he felt. Even though you weren’t married you were part of this mess and your own heart went back and forth with rational and irrational thoughts. In the end, it always came back to you loving this man, as stupid as it was.

“She was at the restaurant for lunch today. With her sister and two friends.” You finally decided to tell him. You pulled his hand into yours and looked up at him, both of you were leaning on your counter.

Harry’s expression was surprised as you continued, “Overheard her say a few things. I didn’t know what had happened but she was upset a little. That much was clear. And knowing what I know… well I figured out what was going on. Obviously…” you watched Harry take in the information.

He nodded, “She found the toy I bought you too,” he shook his head, “That was stupid of me. Told her a lie about it and she told me to get rid of it.”

You moved your hand up his forearm and as strange as the moment was with the things being discussed, everything felt so much better with him there.

Harry turned his body to face you and the quick movement of his hands grasping your waist and lifting you up to sit on your counter had you gasping. He placed his hips between your thighs with his hands at your waist and his mouth covering yours.

You held onto his shoulders tightly as he pushed your t-shirt up, letting his fingers slide underneath and upward. You hadn’t put a bra on because you hadn’t planned on leaving your apartment. You smiled into his mouth when you felt his lips turn upward when his palms smoothed up your back with nothing in their way.

He drew his hands toward the underside of your breast, his thumbs pressing into the flesh and upward to your nipples. His tongue pressed against yours as he softly, delicately brushed over your pebbled buds.

You moaned and lowered your hands to the waistband of his pants and plucked at his button. His pants always tightened significantly when he had an erection, the material unable to quite contain him comfortably.

The wet kiss grew frantic when he felt your hands at his waist, opening his pants up and he pulled back from the kiss to look into your eyes.

“Can I? Want to make you feel good…” your words were breathy. You wanted to see him smile. Wanted to wipe away the kind of day he’d had just like you knew he’d do for you when you were done.

You’d gotten used to his girth in your mouth, the way he reached down into your tonsils and your throat and made you gag. You’d learned to tolerate the feeling and how to pump his base with one hand as you sucked the rest of him.

And clearly, Harry wanted exactly that because he was dragging you from the counter, and the moment your feet hit the floor you dropped to your knees and shoved him back against the formica, pulling his pants down to his ankles.

You moaned when you peeled his underwear down and grasped him in your palm. Wide and heavy. You loved that he was uncut. Used the skin over his shaft to pump him before you spit onto his tip and looked up at him with as much love as you could with what you were about to do, licking all over his frenulum and down the side of his cock.

Harry put both of his palms onto the countertop behind him as he watched you in silence. Watched you drag your tongue along his foreskin and down to his base. Watched you glide your hand over his dick and wrap your hand around him as you laved over his tip. Watched you open your mouth with your tongue out and slide his cock into your mouth.

“Fuck, pup. You’re so good to me aren’t you?” He sucked in a sharp breath as you sucked his crown and continued pumping him. He learned early on that you were eager when it came to giving head.

And you were eager because of the way he gave you head. Had he not been so good and so excited to eat you out you wouldn’t have put in as much effort as you did. But you matched his energy and gave back to him dirty blow jobs that rivaled the kind of depraved things he did to your pussy with his mouth.

And when you got yourself into a good rhythm with drool pooling at the edges of your mouth and dripping down your chin you grabbed one of his hands and brought it to the back of your head, encouraging him to push on you, adding pressure to his hand as you looked up at him.

“Fuck, baby. Like this?” He pushed you down over him, making you take him deeper and you immediately gagged. He was already near your tonsils by that point and the little bit of push he gave you had his swollen, achy head pressing past them and into your throat.

You moaned and blinked your eyes as you grasped onto his thigh. You still used your other hand, sometimes stroking at the base, sometimes gently rolling his balls in your palm.

The gurgles and coughs coming from you shouldn’t have been as sexy as they were but Harry knew that a little gagging didn’t make you shy away from taking him deeper. He bit his lip as he watched you.

He kept his hand at the back of your head, gently guiding you up and down his shaft, sometimes giving you a break while you took in a breath through your nose and stroked his hard cock in your fist.

But then, after you’d gotten air in your lungs and you recovered after choking on him for a few solid seconds you went down on him further. Peeking your eyes up at him you forced yourself to go down over him as far as you could reach before you shut your eyes and felt a steady stream of your saliva drip down to your knees. You wretched and gurgled and listened to your lover moan praises to you.

“Oh my god… fuck me, baby. Holy fuck! You’re so fucking good to me. I need you, honey…” his words and his cock were making you dizzy. You wanted his come. Wanted to give him relief (whether he deserved it or not).

You felt him throb in your mouth, his dick poking deep as you swallowed over his tip and tasted the saltiness of his precome. He coughed out a groan and pushed you off by your shoulders with a gasp. He was red in the face, his lips were swollen and especially pink, chest rising and falling, cock twitching before your face as you leaned in to put him back inside your mouth.

“Oh, hold on pup! Wait…” he rushed out his words. You held on to his muscled thighs and looked up at him from your spot on the floor at your knees. You would have protested but you were too busy inhaling oxygen into your lungs and catching your breath.

Harry put his hands under your armpits to lift you upward before he bent down to remove his shoes and pants and underwear. He held you upright as he looked back at you with slobber all over your chin and neck, “Let’s get into your bed. Wanna finish inside of you, okay?”

And you knew “inside of you” meant in your cunt.

You were already slick and pulsing, your clit throbbing for him by the time he pulled your shorts off and spit down over your pussy. He waited for a minute before doing anything as he watched you squirm under him, “Please… what are you doing?” You asked him, impatiently.

Harry grinned at you and lifted your shirt up above your tits before dipping down to suck on each one. Thoroughly wetting them and pulling at your nipples.

When he sat back onto his haunches he sighed as he dragged his hands down your torso, thumbing over your soft skin and taking you all in, “Needed a minute, baby. Want to fuck you like you deserve.”

And fuck you like you deserve he did. Well, maybe you didn’t deserve it, but he certainly knew how to fuck you.

The slow plunge into your pussy had you writhing and keening under him. He focused on your face as he thrusted himself into you with long, languid strokes. Deep and full of love. He put his entire body into each thrust, his knees mushed into the bed, the front of his thighs pressed into the back of yours, his forearms flat onto the mattress on either side of your shoulders, hovering over you as he watched your face twist up in pleasure.

“I need you, Y/n. Fucking love you, baby,” he grunted as his hips ground deep into you, rocking against yours before gliding back to mid-shaft and plunging into you deeply, fitting his balls against your bum, causing your moans to get louder and whinier.

“I need you, Harry,” you moaned in response. The eye contact and the fullness of him consumed you whole. You’d allow him to overpower you in any way. All of your senses were controlled by him at that moment. The connection between your bodies felt unreal. You were both inhaling sharply at the intensity of the situation.

Your cheap bed creaked gently in time with each roll of his hips and the slick pat of your bodies joining each time he buried himself into you was met with his moans and your gasps.

You scratched your nails down his back when your vision began to blur and your blood rushed to your core. His pelvis dragged against your clit, over and over again as he stuffed himself inside of you, pressing you into the bed, your walls squeezing and taking him in like you were made for him. Like he was made to fit in you.

“Want my come, pup?” Harry’s words were tight as he clenched his teeth. He loved the way your nails felt on his back and he knew he’d have to deal with the consequences of that later on, but for now, it felt like heaven and you were his and he only belonged to you.

“Give me your come. Want it to soak all of my insides…” you moaned in response

“Yeah? Want me to fill up your cunt, baby? Get you all full of my cock and my come?” He grunted.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you whimpered and began to spasm. His words had you wishing you weren’t on birth control. Wishing you could get knocked up and have him for your own. Fuck everything else.

“Fuck, pup,” Harry choked his words when he felt you spasming around him, “Coming on my cock, baby? Yeah? Sounds like it feels really good,” he was delirious. He hardly knew what he was saying as your high-pitched whine turned into guttural moans. Your pussy fluttered and clenched around his cock until he couldn’t hold himself back anymore as he tried working you through, but your cunt was begging to be filled and fed. Begging to have his come.

He rutted into you sharply and groaned as he put his lips over yours and let your walls milk him dry, squeezing his shaft and drawing his come deep into your insides. Into your guts.

The earth began to right itself when you felt him shaking and knew he was finally coming. Finally getting the relief you’d wanted to gift him. His hot breath against your neck and his moans as he drained into you had you smiling and wrapping your legs around him tight, pulling him in deeper as you felt the tail end of your orgasm floating away into space. It felt so good to have him with you. To have him inside of you. To hear him tell you he wanted you, needed you, loved you.

Harry was always amazing at aftercare. He always took care of you, softly whispered to you, and held you. The sweet pillow talk and hushed voices as you held one another and kissed felt like what love really should. The sex was outstanding. It always was, but it was the moments after that sealed everything into place for you. Glued your resolve tight and reminded you of who you were with. Reminded you that Harry was yours and you were his and nothing else mattered. No matter what happened outside of the lazy comedown and the tender touches you received after a mind-blowing orgasm, everything always came back to this.

“I really get you all tonight and tomorrow?” You brushed his hair through your fingers as you both lay on your sides facing one another, your thigh draped over his hip, after the intensive cleanup process. Harry had one arm underneath you and his other hand was at your hip.

He grinned, “Yeah. But I look at it more like I get to have you all night and tomorrow. I’m getting a far better deal than you are.”

You laughed and gently tugged at his hair, “Oh please. I’m so lucky you’d even stay.”

Harry blinked his eyes and the grin fell from his face, “Don’t think like that, baby. You’re so much better than I am. In every way. Way out of my league. I don’t deserve your love. You’re precious to me. I’m the lucky one here. Don’t ever forget how this really is, Y/n.”

You settled your head back into your pillow as you kept your eyes on his, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that… like…” he looked toward your bedroom door and then shifted his gaze back to you, “I feel like I should be begging you and kissing the ground you walk on. Like any bit of attention you shower me with is a blessing and I’m surviving only on your love and affection that you somehow allow me to have.”

You smiled and brought your hands down to his face, the overgrown hairs tickling your palms, “You’re crazy. That’s not how this is at all.”

Harry took your hand and pulled your wrist to his mouth, giving you soft kisses to the skin, and shook his head into the pillow, “That is how this is. Whether you see it or not. I’m lucky you even give me the time of day. I’m like a peasant in comparison to your high royal position,” he smiled as you laughed, “I’m serious. I’m not good enough to even be in your presence and yet you let me in over and over again.”

“Stop. I don’t feel like that…”

Harry’s words were mushed into your wrist, “I know you don’t and that’s crazy to me. But that’s how it is, pup. You hold all the power here. Anyone on the outside will say the same. I’m a lowlife and you’re golden rays shining down on me.”

You sighed and shook your head as he pulled you in closer so your tits were pressed into his warm, sturdy chest, “I’m so lucky. I love you much.”

“I’m lucky too. Lucky you’re here with me now. Wish it was always like this.”

Harry kissed your forehead and smoothed his hand over your hair, “Me too, Y/n.”

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would u? (3tan717) | myg

3tan717 drabble #1: would u? pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: you see a certain fruit-centered trend online.. and decide to test it on yoongi note: i am so so so sorry this is out on the very last day of feb but things have been absolute bananas lately! tbh i’m surprised this is even getting posted on time and i have even more to do after this is shared but eff it shibal!!! note 2: as promised, this is dedicated to the people that submitted the answers i’m using for this drabble: anon, grapes / @yoongrace, and apryl @aprylynn for this idea hehehe! also i literally just finished this so it's legit unedited so i'm sry for any mistakes! off to go prep for events now! warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, working yoongi??, kitchen, period cramps suck but yoongi to the mf rescue drop date: feb 29th, 2024, 10:03pm est word count: 2.3k

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Ugh. 

Why does this have to happen every fucking month. Why can’t it happen every three? Or six? Or never ever ever? 

Groaning, you roll over, burying your face into the pillow on Yoongi’s side. 

To some degree, you feel placated, probably due to his scent still lingering next to your dismay. He had to get up early to finish a track, but he assured you can be in the room. 

You can hear a little bit of what he’s working on as it bleeds through his headphones, and even just this sliver of sound gives you chills. Not just because of what it sounds like, but the sole fact that Yoongi’s letting you even listen in the first place. 

Huffing out a bit of amusement, you remember the last time Yoongi let you stay while he worked—albeit at his place while he went to the studio. 

Damn, how much you’ve grown since then. All those memories, those quiet times and tumultuous times, everything leading up to now. How time has molded you with knowing hands. 

However, no matter how much has changed all these months, some things have not wavered, like the fact that you needed to be sure he was okay with it—and his answer making you absurdly shy. 

Did he really have to say that you’re either staying or he’s gonna leave? That scheming motherfucker! 

Some drum beats hit your cheek before you realize the menace himself is playing multiple different ones. It’s only a couple hits before he moves onto the next, and you’re about to lift your hea—

“Fuck, where the hell is that kick?” 

Your laugh is stifled by cotton. As tickled as you are to hear Yoongi like this, you don’t wanna do anything to distract him. 

But by doing so, that causes your body to tighten and fuck, it hurts. It hurts to move, it hurts to laugh, it hurts to just exist. God, you want him to come back and join you so bad, but you don’t wanna be that person. 

…Yet. Maybe if it gets so bad you can’t even sleep? 

“Found you! Fucking finally. Thought you could hide from me, huh?” 

Oh, fucking hell, he’s adorable. 

Yeah, there’s no way you’re making him drop everything right now. This is too precious of an afternoon to stop. 

Exhaling a mile long breath, you fight through your pain and feel for your phone, groaning as you shift yourself. When in position under sheets and warm sunlight, you cycle through apps as a distraction. 

Scrolling. Scrolling. Smiling at some animal videos a bit before scrolling again. 

After all of five minutes, you start to see a trend on your feed, and suddenly get the idea to try it on Yoongi. It’s simple and harmless, right? 

You [3:30pm]: would u peel an orange for me 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, and you lift your head slightly to see if he looks at his phone. 

When he does, he checks it really quick before setting it back down on his desk, back to clicking on his screen. 

Ah. Damn. He must really be in the zone because… 

Uhh. 

Blinking, you watch as Yoongi rolls his chair out to get up, setting his glasses down and heading out of the room with a light swing of his chains. 

Uh. What just happened? Did you upset him? You’re so stunned that his swift exit has you wanting to get up and follow him.  

But ow. Ouch. It’s maddening how much your cramps are getting to you. 

Bearing the punches to your gut, you start sliding out of the bed, straining and sucking in sharp breaths just to stand and pull Yoongi’s comforter over your tension. 

Padding out the bedroom, your worries make your steps tiny and heavy, and you regret sending that text because you literally just said you weren’t… gonna…

On the dining table—quiet—lie three tangerines, peeled and placed next to vibrant scraps while your lover peels a fourth with diligent, devoted hands. 

And you can’t even form words that match how you feel. 

Your vision swims right as Yoongi looks your way, his body stilling before he puts the fruit down. 

When he approaches with concern, you answer his silent questions through hiccups, “I—I thought you left cus—you were mad.” 

“Huh?” 

“I don’t even know,” you swallow, gesturing to all of your lower half and feeling him hold the slipping blanket. “It’s just… this, I guess.”

“Does it hurt?” 

“Like a motherfucker.” 

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, doll. Hold up.” Handing you the comforter, Yoongi goes to his cabinets in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of medicine before walking it over. “You gotta take something as soon as you feel it. Don’t let it get this bad.”

“I know,” you groan, resting your head on his shirt and inhaling his healing presence. “I didn’t wanna bother you.” 

Your forehead is kissed. “You’re not bothering me. Especially with something like this.” 

“Okay.” 

He walks away again to grab some water, and you watch as he pours some into an electric kettle before starting it up. 

Glancing back at the fruit, you sigh, clutching the bottle of pills while feeling the weight of his comforter. He’s probably not pleased with the way it might drag on the ground, so you gather it and pick the end chair to sit on. 

And then you sigh, “Sorry for making you peel those. I didn’t even plan on eating anything.”  

“Too bad. You’re gonna eat what I make you anyway.” 

Wait, he’s cooking? He has work to do! “You’re working, though. Don’t worry about me right now.” 

“It’ll be quick.” 

“What are you making?” 

A glass bowl and pan are procured from random places before Yoongi blinks in place. “Uhh.. You’ll see.” 

As he clunks them onto his counter and stove, you watch with hearts for eyes as he bustles around the kitchen space. Even doing things as simple as washing his hands, opening his fridge, and simply grabbing a knife gives you pause. 

And this is when you realize that you can watch Yoongi do absolutely anything and be amazed. 

Even when he stands, watching you with a look that’s wait why doesn’t he look—

“Take the medicine, baby girl.” 

Oh. 

Snapping out of your trance, you nod. “Sorry.” 

Yoongi continues to give you glances until you swallow down the painkillers, satisfied enough to continue his cooking venture when you take the second one. 

As the sun paints the apartment in marigold and light, you keep watching with a smile as he brings the kitchen to life. Butter sizzles in a pan, tangerines are getting halved on a board, and something is getting mixed with a whisk. 

Who knew that the neighborhood fuckboy would have a whisk on hand? Not the younger you, that’s for damn sure. 

But here Yoongi is, in the flesh, whisking away with veiny forearms that have you thinking the most absurd thoughts during this time of the month. The only thing that would cut through the raging horniness would be getting up to see what the hell he’s making. 

It’s starting to smell familiar though. But he put the tangerines in the pan so you don’t even know what to expect right now. 

Walking up—blanket left behind—you observe the kitchen before peering over his broad shoulder. “Mm.. Smells like pancakes.” 

Yoongi doesn’t answer, but when you see the consistency of the batter, you realize you’re correct. “Oh, it is! I’m smart.” 

“You are,” he laughs. “But you didn’t get it all the way right.” 

“No?” 

“Nope.” Yoongi then gently gets you to move before he pours the batter over the slices, and you crane your neck to watch as he evens it all out. “Just one tangerine pancake.”

“Oh, okay,” you scoff, earning a laugh at your side. “Whatever, chef.” 

“We’ll see what you say in a bit.” 

Is he gonna leave it or flip it? Probably the latter. 

“K. Gonna flip that once it’s done.” 

Nice. You smile to yourself, loving how you’re starting to really be on the same page. Nudging him, you keep watching as he lowers the heat and sets the lid on the pan. “What now?” 

“We wait,” he responds, dusting his hands together before cleaning up his mixing bowl. “And I’m gonna see if we have any sugar.”

Damn it, Yoongi cannot keep saying that two-letter word. It’s starting to be detrimental to your health. “I can help.” 

“S’ok,” he assures, nose upturned. “Just watch me work.” 

“Oh, I’m very good at doing that.” 

At this, Yoongi turns and gives you a smile that immediately reminds you of summer, and you almost feel like crying again. 

“I’ve actually never tried this, but. We’ll see if this works.” 

With nothing snarky, or teasing, or fake to say, you reply with a smile and a genuine, “I’m sure it will.” 

When he keeps staring, his eyes lower to your lips, and you don’t care that you probably look like a wreck, or feel like one. Because the way he’s looking at you now makes you glow. 

If only the kettle didn’t decide this was the moment to stop boiling. 

You were probably about to get the kiss of your life. 

But Yoongi halts in his tracks before shifting to get a mug, setting it down with a thud before checking on the pancakes. Pancake. Whatever that delicious-smelling thing is gonna be. 

“There’s some tea packets in that right drawer. Help yourself cus I’d rather you pick.” 

Chuckling, you oblige before scooting over. After seeing a small jar of granules on the counter, you start rummaging through the drawer, exploring the various options while hearing the sound of a plate behind you. 

Ah, Yoongi’s flipping it. 

As you turn, you’re just in time to watch the muscles in his back protrude through his shirt as he flips the pan, impressed as he sets the plate down because holy hell that looks great. 

“Sugar, sugar, sugar… Suga, suga, suga.” 

Laughing, you interrupt his silly search as you grab the jar you just saw. “Suga suga, how you get so fly?”

Yoongi stops to see what’s in your hand, and he huffs through a grin before grabbing it. “Thanks, doll.” 

You keep humming the song that’s now wedged into your head as you watch him sprinkle bits on the pancake. 

“I don’t have a blowtorch,” he admits, “But I do have this.” 

Rolling out a drawer, Yoongi takes out a long lighter before holding it to the sugary top, humming the same song you were just singing without even knowing it. As the sugar slowly but surely heats, you both keep humming and basking in a calm afternoon. 

And you don’t even feel the pain anymore. 

“Go ahead and sit, babe.” 

“You sure?” 

“Uh huh.” 

Following instructions, you make your way to the table, cocooning yourself in his comforter again as you await the cutest meal you’ve had in weeks. Months. Lifetimes. 

Speaking of lifetimes… You hope every version of you meets every version of him. No matter when. No matter where. Because you want every version of yourself to find happiness, and Yoongi has been the one to help you finally find it. 

And he certainly passed whatever the hell this orange theory thing was supposed to be. 

Plates are set down to break you out of introspection, and you glance up with eyes sparkling. 

When Yoongi raises a brow, you just smile. When he asks what’s gotten into you, a chuckle escapes before you shake your head, 

“Nothing, baby. Just didn’t expect all this from that text.” 

As he plops into the next chair, you love the way the sun settles on his skin. Highlights his hair. Shimmers in his eyes. 

“Don’t even need to ask, babe.” He captures your attention with a calm look. “I was waiting for any distractions anyways.” 

So this was for him, too? Good. 

Grabbing your fork, you giggle. “Sounded like you were having a little trouble over there.” 

“I was! This is what I get for not saving my shit.” 

Both of you sit back in laugher as you throw your hands out. “Do that!” 

“I’m lazy!” 

“Tough shit!” 

“I know!” 

Grinning, you loll your head before waving your fork out. “You’re gonna save those sounds, and you’re gonna remember this day and thank me.” 

Yoongi just tightens his lips in a smile, eyes creased and glimmering. “Maybe.” 

“Yes. I’ll stand there and watch you until you do it.” 

"Really.."

For the rest of the afternoon—with full bellies and clear minds—you rest on the edge of Yoongi’s bed, forcing him to find the files he needs and watching him groan his way through saving everything. 

Constantly laughing at the ridiculously random names he’s assigning them.

When he’s done, you watch as he spins around in his chair, heart thumping with anticipation as you’re met with a waiting pair of eyes.

Breathtaking. 

When he leans in, you feel incredibly shy. Always, always, always. This will forever remain the same.

And—just as well—Yoongi's kisses will forever taste like tangerines. 

Three of them, to be exact. 

-

-

fin. :)

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how did the first 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe

a/n: nothing much to say other than i love y'all so much! i will try responding to anything when i can (there's literally still all the 3tan12 feedback to get to) but i do read all the commentary sent in and it keeps me going strong :'))) so thank you again for being here and being amazingly patient with me. off to work on more things but i shall be back once the wild weeks are over!

a/n 2: suga suga how you get so flyyyy hahaha

[yuyusuyu]

the princess treatment chronicles!

pairing. non idol! best friend! song mingi x non idol! fem! reader

synopsis. the five times you accidentally completed the steps that would make mingi swoon also known as the five times you accidentally gave him princess treatment and he kept falling harder for you each time

warnings. mentions of food, getting sick, fire (someone get mingi away from the grill), cursing (wooyoung naur)

genres. romance, fluff, comedy, best friends to something more

ft. non idol! ateez

wc. 3k

pt 2. here !

a/n. happy birthday to our lovely mingi :( (this was supposed to be posted in two days wtaf 😭 guys pls just ignore and pretend it was posted on his bday 😭 my queue os my biggest enemy now)

reblogs and comments are appreciated! helps with not getting shadowbanned!

MINGI has a list. it's a special list to him, one that speaks volumes about him.

speaks volumes about a step-by-step process on how to make him, song mingi, fall in love with someone.

now, this list is hidden in his notes app, and the physical copy of this is hidden in one of his math notebooks from high school. he is the only person to know about this list, other than his best friend, of course (only because yunho accidentally saw him writing it out instead of doing math homework with him).

yunho calls it 'a step-by-step guide to the princess treatment' but mingi likes to correct his friend, telling him that it's actually called 'the way to song mingi's heart.'

yunho likes to call it otherwise.

but what does that have to do with you? well, for starters, mingi met you through yunho. it was completely accidental. according to yunho, he was never going to introduce you because you're like a little sister to him and you might end up stealing mingi from him by being your lovable self. instead of that happening, you two had instantly clicked and the three of you became a little trio, one that somehow always managed to spend time with each other everyday.

crazy.

how mingi and yunho managed to keep the list a secret from you, they have no idea (and yunho has no idea why mingi doesn’t want you knowing. the three of you tell each other everything to the point that it can be seen as oversharing at times), how they’ve managed to keep this list hidden from you for so long—three years, to be exact.

until now, that is.

STEP ONE TO MAKE SONG MINGI FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: RUN INTO A PUBLIC PLACE IN A DRAMATIC MANNER WITH SOMETHING OF IMPORTANCE TO MINGI ! (IT SHOWS THAT YOU CARE VERY MUCH ABOUT HIM TO THE POINT OF NOT CARING ABOUT HOW OTHER PEOPLE SEE YOU)

mingi frowns as he looks down at his phone, eyebrows furrowed when he looks up at yunho. “she’s ten minutes late.”

yunho nods, also frowning. “maybe something came up and that’s why she’s running late?”

slumping down in his seat, mingi sighs, grumbling, “yeah, but she would’ve texted us by now if something happened. you know how yn is…”

the bells of the café entrance chimes, signaling the appearance of a customer. mingi, at this point, has given up checking if every new customer that walks into the café is you. he folds his arms on the table, resting his head as he pouts.

“oh yn!”

and then he immediately perks up in his seat, excitedly turning around to face you. yunho gets up, giving you a hug before ushering you into the seat next to mingi’s.

“i’m so sorry,” you wheeze, “i was going to text the group chat but then my phone died.”

yunho tilts his head. “your phone died? you don’t usually use your phone while you have a shift at the restaurant.”

“i don’t,” you say, running a hand through your tousled hair. “but i forgot to charge my phone before i left my place, and then when i went to that doughnut place, the lines were ridiculously long but i was already in line so i decided to suck it up and—"

“woah,” laughs mingi. “slow down.”

“sorry,” you mumble, sighing and taking in a breath before continuing. “i went to the doughnut place that just opened up. i read on a forum that wednesday afternoons are usually the slowest, so i decided i’d stop by before coming over to the cafe to study with you guys. when i got there, there was already a line that was about to start wrapping around the store, so i had to beat this lady next to me that wanted to get in line.”

“a lady,” yunho repeats, chuckling. 

you hum. “yeah. i beat her to it, by the way. anyway, i was checking the time and saw it was already nearing the time we decided on, so i was in the middle of sending a text when my phone died.” you take out your phone from your tote bag along with a box.

it’s then that cogs in mingi’s brain starts working when he eyes the cursive lettering on the box.

“oh, isn’t that the doughnut place mingi’s been wanting to try out?” yunho asks, hands stretching out to grab the box.

you slap his hands, earning a laugh from the taller male as he brings them back to his side. “yes,” you reply, side-eyeing yunho. “meaning this isn’t for you.”

grabbing the box, you sheepishly smile at mingi, handing it over to him. “i know you’ve been trying to find the time to go over and try their doughnuts, but since my workplace is closer… i mean, why not?”

“excuse us for a second,” mingi mumbles, leaving you confused as he grabs yunho’s arm and drags him over to a corner in the cafe. once you’re out of earshot, mingi clears his throat. “what the hell was that?”

“what was what?” whispers yunho, blinking as he watches mingi glance over at you. you’re in the middle of trying to tame down your wild hair.

“she just completed step one.”

yunho gasps, turning mingi around by his shoulders. “no way,” he says. “did you tell her about the list?”

“what? no!” he cries out. “how did she even do it? yunho, i swear if you told her—”

“that’s not my secret to tell!” yunho whisper-shouts. “listen, this was probably a one time thing. there’s no way she even knows about it. plus, maybe she was just feeling a little generous today towards you!”

mingi slowly nods. “yeah,” he mumbles. “yeah, you’re right. let’s head back before yn starts asking questions…”

yunho was not right.

STEP TWO: IN MINGI’S TIME OF NEED, DO WHATEVER YOU CAN IN ORDER TO MAKE HIM FEEL HAPPY (THIS IS TO SHOW THAT YOU WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HIM NO MATTER WHAT TIME IT IS OR WHAT YOU’RE DOING)

mingi grumbles as he kicks his shoes off and drops his things on the floor by the door, closing it and shuffling over to his room as he angrily sends a text to the group chat.

it’s already one in the morning. yunho is most likely gaming and you’re most likely already sleeping. regardless, mingi still sends a text and doesn’t bother waiting for an answer as he flops down into his bed face-first.

he barely manages to make out the sound of his phone ringing. he blindly searches for his phone until his hand finally finds it. grunting, he brings it to his face, his eyes squinting at the screen from the brightness in comparison to his dark room.

yn: you still have your spare key in the same place, right?

mingi: i thought you had my spare after last time?

he sees that you’re in the middle of typing, so he waits until you finally send another message.

yn: oh

yn: yeah, you’re right. just found it on my keychain 

mingi: i’m always right

yn: mmmmmm i wouldn’t say that but sure…

mingi: bruh

again, the typing bubble pops up on his screen before it disappears. mingi’s a bit confused, he won’t lie. he thought you would already be sleeping, but you weren’t. he snorts. “she asked me about my spare key instead of what’s wrong…?”

he shakes his head, stuffing it into his pillow. “whatever,” he mumbles.

mingi swears he’d only closed his eyes for a brief moment when the sound of his door unlocking fills the air. he stiffens in his bed before scrambling off, fumbling to find something to protect himself. he unplugs the lamp by his nightstand and grips it tightly, quietly tiptoeing towards his door.

“mingi?”

“yn, what the hell?” mingi groans, stepping out of his room and walking into the living room area of his apartment.

you narrow your eyes in confusion, pointing at the lamp he’s still holding. “why do you have a lamp in your hand?”

“the real question here is why are you here?” he huffs, leaning down to put the lamp on the floor. mingi then crosses his arms over his chest, “and why aren’t you sleeping?”

“i was about to sleep,” you say, walking past mingi and into his room. he follows you, his mouth open in surprise. “but then you texted that you had a shit day, so here i am.” you drop the bag you’re holding onto his bed, turning around. “now why the hell did you have a lamp in your hand?”

mingi clears his throat. “i, uh, thought someone was breaking in…”

you snort, sitting on his bed and patting the space next to the bag. “that’s funny, mings. no one is going to break in if you’re a broke college student.”

huffing, he grumbles as he sits down on his bed, bringing his knees up to his chest. “shut up.”

“mhm,” you hum. “now tell me about why you had a shit day while we eat some of your favorites, yeah?” you stick your hand into the bag and take out one of his favorite snacks, opening the bag and handing it over to him while you shift around to face him.

he thinks his heart started beating a little too fast for his liking.

STEP THREE: WHEN MINGI IS STRUGGLING TO DO SOMETHING, JUST DO IT FOR HIM WITHOUT EVEN ASKING IF HE NEEDS ASSITANCE (THIS IS TO SHOW THAT YOU NOTICE WHEN HE IS STRUGGLING)

you look between yunho and mingi. yunho’s trying so hard not to laugh, but his smile gives him away. he obviously finds mingi struggling to light the grill amusing. 

“c’mon,” you slap yunho’s arm, earning a whine from him. “don’t be a bully.”

“yeah, yunho,” mingi says, looking up for a brief second to glare at him before looking back at the box of matches in his hand. “don’t be a bully.”

you gently take the box away from mingi’s hands, taking out a match and striking it against the box, a flame appearing. you grab the lighter fluid and pour some on the charcoal before  chucking the match into the grill, a fire immediately coming to life.

mingi gasps and hides behind you, startled. yunho laughs at the sight. “no way you’re hiding behind yn right now,” he says, wiping tears away from his eyes. “she’s literally so short compared to you.”

“shut up, jeong yunho.” you point at him. “or else i’ll change my netflix password.”

yunho gasps. “you wouldn’t dare!”

as you and yunho quarrel, mingi sighs, hiding his face in his hands when he feels the back of his neck grow unbearably hot.

you are doing a number on him.

and he’s a little scared.

because you’re his best friend.

and he can’t believe that his best friend, of all people, would be completing his five-step-guide in making him fall for someone.

he has to talk to yunho soon about this.

STEP FOUR: WHEN MINGI IS HURT, HELP AND CODDLE HIM (THIS IS TO SHOW THAT YOU CARE A LOT ABOUT HIM)

he never got the chance to talk to yunho about this.

after your impromptu bbq day at yunho’s place, mingi ended up getting sick. he didn’t tell anyone, not wanting to bother anyone and burden them with taking care of him. so here he is, laying in his bed, shivering and clutching onto his blankets for dear life.

he hears his front door clicking open, and he groans. “go away!” he croaks, sneezing afterwards. “i have nothing to offer you, you thief!”

you laugh. “seriously? you think i’m some robber again?”

at the sound of your voice, mingi’s heart skips a beat. he clears his throat. “no… what are you doing here? i seriously need to take my spare key away from you…”

“yeah, yeah,” you say, walking into his room and raising an eyebrow when you see the state he’s in. “why didn’t you tell yunho or i about this, mings? we would’ve come running to you.”

he sneezes. “i didn’t want to annoy anyone,” he says, lowering his blankets from his face just to see you.

you click your tongue and walk to the side of the bed, pressing your hand to the back of his forehead. “don’t be silly, mingi. you know we don’t find you annoying… at least i don’t find you annoying,” you mumble, straightening your back and walking out of the room. “i’m going to make you some soup, you weakling! don’t get up!”

mingi lets out a weak laugh, sneezing afterwards. “yes, ma’am…”

“what was that?”

“yes, ma’am!” he yells, his voice cracking. mingi hears you giggle to yourself.

he huffs, pulling his blankets over his head.

when you’re done making the soup, you carry a bowl and some cough medicine into his room and find that he’s asleep. you set the bowl on his nightstand, shaking him awake as gently as possible. “mingi,” you whisper. “mingi, i have the soup. i need you to wake up so that i can feed you.”

“feed me?” he asks, whispering.

you hum, opting to card your hand through his hair that’s been growing out recently. “yeah, i need to feed you.”

“feed… feed me?” mingi screeches, abruptly sitting up. you gasp, almost falling off the bed.

clearing your throat, you reach out to grab the bowl, placing it in your lap and grabbing a spoonful, blowing on it slightly before leaning away. “here…”

mingi stares at you, wide-eyed.

you purse your lips. “mingi, i need you to eat so that you can get better.”

“right!” he says, his voice an octave higher than usual as he moves to eat the soup. when he leans back, mingi sees you smiling at him.

his stomach does some summersaults.

STEP FIVE: TAKE CARE OF MINGI (THIS SHOWS THAT HE IS VERY IMPORTANT TO YOU)

mingi puffs his cheeks out, trying not to laugh as he takes out his keys.

“yunho, i need you to carry the cake… actually, never mind, jongho can you please carry the cake?”

yunho gasps. “yn, do you not believe in me and my capabilities to carry a cake?”

“...no, i don’t.”

“what the—”

hongjoong claps once. “stop fighting!” he says. “mingi’s going to be here any minute now—”

“actually,” pipes up seonghwa. “it says that he just arrived.”

“what the fuck!” wooyoung screams. “guys, hurry the fuck up! he’s coming!”

“wooyoung… stop screaming… you’re giving us away,” yeosang says.

“yeah, what my boyfriend said.” san says.

“san, dude, how many times do i have to tell you that i am not your boyfriend.”

mingi takes in a deep breath before shoving his keys into the lock, the noise going on on the other side immediately stopping. he can hear you all shuffling around until someone whisper-shouts at jongho to go shut the door.

“what the—but i’m carrying the cake?” jongho sounds baffled.

“give me the cake and go stop mingi from coming in! yunho hasn’t finished hanging the stupid banner!” you cry out.

mingi assumes jongho’s laying his weight on top of the door because he can’t push it open.

“did you just call me stupid, yn?”

“no, but i will if you don’t hurry up!”

“guys,” hongjoong sighs, and mingi can bet that he’s rubbing his temples. “i think mingi can hear you.”

he sure can.

“okay, jongho come back!”

mingi snorts, pushing the door open and flicking the lights on. yunho’s awkwardly holding the end of a birthday banner up while the other end is taped onto the wall. hongjoong and seonghwa both sigh in unison at how badly the surprise is coming along, and wooyoung and san are trying to push each other out of the way so that one of them can stand next to yeosang, who is rolling his eyes and trying to shuffle away from the two. jongho stands to your side, the only one who is actually smiling at him—oh, he’s lying.

you’re smiling at him while holding a birthday cake.

“suprise, mings!” you say.

everyone yells happy birthday to him, and somehow he finds himself getting shoved by wooyoung towards the small table he has by the kitchen. you’re standing next to him, laughing as you put the paper party hat on his head, making sure that the thin string is secured underneath his chin before moving to get the knife.

“let mingi cut the cake!” wooyoung yells.

“he could get himself cut, and the birthday boy shouldn’t have to do it unless he wants to,” you chide, glancing up at mingi through your eyelashes. “do you want to cut it, mings?”

he swallows the lump in his throat, shaking his head afterwards. “no,” he breathes out, licking his lips. “you can do it for me, if that’s okay.”

you grin at him, carefully cutting up the cake. you place the slices on plates, making sure that the biggest slice goes to mingi.

oh no, he thinks.

you’ve officially completed his five-step-guide to his heart.

“um, yn?” mingi leans down to whisper into your ear.

you hum in response.

“can we talk for a sec?”

nodding, you let yourself get dragged by mingi into his room. after closing the door, he looks at you and you notice that his ears are very red.

“are you okay?” you ask, pointing at your ears. “your ears are red.”

mingi whines, covering his face with his hand. “can you turn around real quick?”

“okay…”

mingi peeks through his fingers, sighing in relief when your back is facing him. he clears his throat and wipes the palms of his hands on his jeans. “i, uh… would you like to go out for dinner sometime this week?”

“as a date?” you ask, fighting the urge to turn around to look at him.

in a small voice, mingi replies. “yeah… as a date.”

“i’d like that.”