#it’s like. Right There. you can still hear the rain. You can still hear the vestiges of the song and then. quiet

[evanbi-ckley]

Buck walks through the automatic doors on autopilot and freezes. It hits him then that the last time he stood here, he was meeting Tommy for Maddie and Chim’s wedding. He had stood almost in this very spot and kissed his boyfriend who was covered in soot after fighting a wildfire all night and most of the day.

Now his boyfriend is somewhere else in the hospital, and Buck can’t kiss him or touch him, and his hands are shaking, and he thinks he’s going to be sick.

He turns toward the nearest bathroom and makes it into the stall just in time. He hasn’t eaten yet today, so he’s only throwing up bile mixed with panic and regret, but it’s just as bad.

It’s Hen who finds him, which -

“Why are you in the men’s room?” he asks, his voice weak and still creaky.

“I thought you might need a medical professional.” When Buck just looks at her, she continues with a sigh, “We could hear you in the waiting room. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh.” That’s a little embarrassing. “Sorry. And thanks.”

He gratefully accepts the wet paper towel she hands him to wipe his face.

“Any news yet?”

“Not yet. They took him back for surgery, and it’ll probably be a few more hours before we hear. Bobby and Eddie are in the waiting room if there’s an update. Chim went to pick up Jee from daycare, but he’ll be back later with Maddie.”

Then she produces a water bottle from somewhere behind her.

“How long have I been in here?” Buck asks. Hen seems way too prepared for it to have been just a few minutes.

“About half an hour,” she says. “Actually closer to 45 minutes now.”

“Right.”

So time is still moving awkwardly. He can’t get his bearings. He feels untethered, like he’ll never be on solid ground again.

“Why don’t we get you up and out to a chair?” Hen asks gently. She’s not treating him with kid gloves, but she is being more careful than necessary.

He decides to accept it for the time being. Maybe he does need the softness in her voice and the kindness in her eyes right now.

“Yeah - yeah, that’s a good idea. Thanks, Hen.”

She smiles with something like relief and then stands, offering Buck a hand up.

The waiting room is blessedly empty save for their morose party. Buck tries to sit down, but before he can, Hen is pulling at his turnout coat, trying to yank it off his shoulders. She manhandles the coat off and tosses it to Eddie who adds it to the growing pile of coats on an unused chair in the corner. He’s too tired to fight it or question it, plus it was getting heavy with all of the rain still soaked into the fabric. 

After that, Hen leaves to call Karen, and Ravi goes to get food for them all at a little cafe just up the road that they’ve come to know well. 

Buck sits between Bobby and Eddie, almost a mockery of them standing at the crash site, holding him up. Best not to think about it.

Eddie holds a phone in his hands that Buck recognizes, but it’s not Eddie’s phone. The screen is cracked at the upper corner, spider-webbing its way diagonally down the length of the glass.

“Is that -?” He can’t even bring himself to ask.

“It’s Tommy’s, yeah. A nurse brought out the personal items he had on him a while ago. I was going to see if he has any family in his contacts, but I don’t know his passcode.”

“Oh,” Buck swallows roughly, “it’s um - it’s my birthday. But,” he continues before Eddie types the digits, “he doesn’t have any family in his contacts. At least, not anyone he would want here.”

“Ah,” is all Eddie says before handing the phone over to Buck. He pockets it and tries to think about anything other than his boyfriend a few rooms away getting his arm put back together.

He spends the next few minutes staring off into space thinking of nothing other than his boyfriend a few rooms away getting his arm put back together.

“He’s gonna be okay, Buck,” Eddie says into the heavy silence.

“Eddie’s right,” Bobby adds. “His arm will be fine, and the cuts and scrapes will heal. He’ll be back up in the sky before you know it.”

Buck feels his stomach churn threateningly at the thought, but he does his best to nod and smile. 

When Ravi returns with food, Buck can’t handle the smell, let alone eating anything. But he tries. He can hear Tommy’s low voice in his head warning, “Evan, you need to eat something,” and that convinces him more than Eddie’s prodding.

When Karen shows up along with Chimney and Maddie, Buck feels the need to pull her and his sister off to the side.

He tries to keep his voice steady as he says, “I didn’t get it. Before, I mean. I didn’t get what it felt like to be on this side.” He’s oddly proud his voice only cracked once.

Maddie grabs his hand. “Buck, you’ve been on this side a lot of times. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the 118 isn’t very good at staying out of the hospital.”

He lets out a wet laugh.

“I think he means on the worried partner side of things,” Karen says. “You’ve never had someone you’re in a relationship with get injured like this before. Is that right?”

“Y-yeah.” He chuckles sardonically. “When I saw the helicopter - and his - his hand hanging out the window - I thought - he wasn’t moving, y’know? It took us so long to find him. We were too late. I thought -”

“You thought you’d lost him,” Maddie supplies. He can only nod. “Yep, welcome to the Worried Partners Club.”

“It sucks, but it’s worth it,” Karen adds.

Later, when Athena gets off shift, she arrives at the hospital bearing coffee for everyone. Buck nods gratefully when she hands him one, and the understanding look in her eyes nearly sets him off again. Although, he thinks he might be too dehydrated for tears by now.

“Family of Thomas Kinard?” a voice calls from the doors leading to the OR.

Everyone looks up, but Buck is on his feet before the nurse finishes saying Tommy’s name. He feels people behind him, and the nurse’s eyes widen a bit at everyone gathering around, but Buck’s glad for them.

“He’s out of surgery. Everything went well. He’ll be in recovery for about an hour, but as soon as we get him in a room, you can see him.” 

The last part is directed toward Buck. Maybe he now looks like he’s part of the Worried Partners Club, but that’s fine. He’ll see Tommy soon. That’s what matters.

He catches the end of the nurse’s spiel as he says, “...still be under some sedation, so don’t expect much conversation.”

Buck nods, and the nurse leaves, and then Maddie is dragging him back to their chairs, handing him his coffee, and plopping down next to him to wait until they can see Tommy.

“He’s going to be insufferable,” Eddie says suddenly. He looks at Buck and says, “Remember that time he sprained his ankle while we were sparring? God, he was the worst patient.”

Buck genuinely laughs for the first time since they got the call. “He’s so stubborn, he wouldn’t even let me open doors for him. He just struggled to balance on his crutches so he could do it himself. He almost fell into the bushes twice outside the physical therapist’s office.”

Then everyone is laughing, a sense of lightness settling over Buck. He still doesn’t feel grounded or right necessarily, but laughing with his family helps.

They keep telling stories after that. Most of them are about Tommy, but some are stories or updates about kids or parents or a new recipe gone wrong. They all avoid the topic of work.

“Family of Thomas Kinard?” It’s a different nurse this time, but she doesn’t blink an eye at the number of family Tommy has. “He’s resting in his room. You can go back to see him, but we ask that you keep it to 4 or 5 people at a time. He’s still pretty groggy and probably won’t remember what happened right away, so keep conversation simple.” Then she turns and starts walking down the hallway, not waiting or looking back to see if anyone follows.

Buck grabs Chim and Eddie and gestures at Bobby to come, too. At the last second he grabs Hen’s hand, and the five of them hurry to catch up with the nurse together.

“Breathe, Buck,” Hen whispers.

He can’t. Not yet.

part 1

part 2

part 4

[kenobers]

tremble & shake | jason todd x sionis!reader

but first free palestine !! Jason doesn't show up for your hook-up. You don't think much of it until he comes barreling through his window in a distressed state. He's desperately in need of your comfort and you don't have a clue why, but you can't stand to see Jason Todd hurting. tw: angst, hurt/comfort, could be read as a panic attack, mental breakdown, slightly dubious attempts to initiate sex, non-sexual intimacy, uhh fear, self deprecating thoughts (i swear, one day i'll write something where neither you nor jason have anything bad to say about yourselves). jason todd needs a hug, reader was previously not very good with emotions. or empathy. fem!reader. a/n: happy batman day! here's jason crying <3 this comes after magic hands & is this love?

Slam.

You jolt awake from your sleep, immediately reaching for a blunt object. Blinking hard, you squint at the door. Jason's door.

That's right, you're in Jason's apartment for one of your regularly scheduled hook-ups. He hadn't shown up, his phone abandoned on his bedside table. You figured he must've had to patrol tonight and forgot to give you a heads up. However, it's been pouring rain all night, so you decided to stay. You must've fallen asleep waiting for him.

"Jason?-"

No sooner does the man's name leave your lips than he practically tackles you on the bed. He's still in his costume, the red bat on his chest heaving heavily. His red mouthpiece hides the bottom half of his face as he looks down at you from behind the white of his domino mask. He's absolutely drenched. Cold clings to him and sends a shiver down your spine.

You furrow your brow. Something's wrong.

"I thought you weren't patrolling tonight," you whisper. He says nothing.

Pursing your lips, you ran your hands along his bare forearms. He's shaking. He'd gone out without his jacket. Jason's tough, almost inhumanely so, but if he'd gone out without his jacket in this rain...he must've been in a hurry.

"Did something happen?" Your eyes search his unbroken skin for injuries. Still, he says nothing and the empty whites of his mask are starting to freak you out.

You push his wet hood back and comb your fingers through his soaked hair until they find the buckle of his mask. You undo it and pull the mask from his face, peeling the domino along with it. His expression underneath is just as blank, like his mind is somewhere else.

Before you can say anything, he's kissing you hard. Almost violently. A shaky hand grips your shoulder with a ferocity Jason hasn't previously had with you, even when you've really gone at it.

"Hey," you say between harsh, wet kisses. "Jason, stop."

As if he doesn't hear you, Jason moves to your neck. The hand on your shoulder drops to your hip.

"Jason."

It starts to paw underneath your satin hem.

"Jay!"

The fear in your voice makes his head snap up. He stares at you with wide eyes, like a deer in the headlights. You shake your head, "I don't want this. I don't think you want this."

He moves off of you, staring at his lap.

You sit up slowly, mirroring his position on his knees. Panic chews at your insides as you try to assess him. He needs help, needs comfort, maybe. You have no experience with comfort, no clue what to do. You can't do this, you're not the person he needs, this-

This isn't about you. The man that has been at your every beck and call for the past several months looks like he's fighting for his Goddamn life. You don't hate the possibility of making a fool of yourself as much as you hate the sight of seeing Jason Todd in pain.

Somewhere, in the very back of your mind, there's a vague memory of a hand cupping your cheek, wiping away your tears. You copy it, reaching out to him hesitantly, terrified of making things worse.

Your fingertips brush his cheek with an almost non-existent touch, just heavy enough to wipe away the remnants of rain. He leans into your touch and you take this as permission to hold his face in your trembling hands.

His own hands find your hips again, drawing you between his thighs as his head comes to rest in the crook of your shoulder.

"'just wanna feel you," he mumbles against your skin, making your shoulder vibrate.

"I'm not gonna fuck you like this," you card your other hand through his damp hair. "You're going to wake up and realize it wasn't what you needed."

He says nothing, but clutches you as close as he possibly can. You tense as he presses against you. His armor digs into you uncomfortably, the buckle of his holster poking at your thigh. Water from his soggy clothes seeps through your satin nightgown. The hand on his face begins to cramp at this bent angle.

You've never seen him like this. Neither of you ever really come to one another for comfort, sans the time he brought you pads. Or the other time he calmed you down from a fight with your father. Or came to your rescue when your friends got you greened out on some fucked up weed. Okay, so you come to him for comfort, but he is...much more reclusive about his emotions. Complaining to you, sure. He often pulls to your sessions pissed and fucks you until he felt better. Sometimes he's so hungry for your body that he doesn't speak, except to check in with you. This was neither of these things. But this would mark the first real emotional emergency of whatever this relationship is. This was sad, desperate. Fearful.

"Please," he breathes in a broken voice. You...relax.

Without thinking about it, you hug him. You run your hand between his shoulder blades, supporting the back of his head. You cradle him like he might break. The same way he holds you when he sleeps.

"Nothing's gonna hurt you. I'm not gonna let 'em," the memory in the back of your head says.

"It's okay," you soothe, pressing your lips to his wet curls, feeling them tickle your cheek. "I'm not gonna let anything hurt you. Nothing's gonna touch you here, Jaybird."

There's a slight shake of his head as he clings to fistfuls of your dress. Your stomach clenches at the thought of whatever was bad enough to puncture his mind like this. You pull back just enough to look at him. Only the bottom half of his face was visible. His lips quivered, silently forming "no" over and over again.

You momentarily retracted your hand from his back to rest your palm to his cheek.

"Baby, I don't know where your brain is telling you or what it's telling you is happening, but I swear to you, you're safe with me in your apartment. Nothing is coming for us, I won't let anything happen."

His breath shutters and he buries his face completely into your shoulder. You squeeze your arms around him, rocking the giant man back and forth. He defeatedly sags against you with a single sob. Your heart drops even further at the sound. You shush him gently, resting your chin on his head.

"It's okay, you're okay. You're here with me. I've got you, baby. I've got you."

The next however many minutes go on like this. You cradle him, praying he doesn't shatter in your lap. You coo any sweets words you can think of until the tension in his muscles eases at your touch. His weight grows heavier in your embrace. For a moment, you think he fell asleep.

"Jay?" You call out softly. He lifts his head and rests it against your forehead. His gaze is still lost in space, but at least they look exhausted. That's better than nothing.

His skin burns against icy hot yours. Sweat starts to replace the rain. He needs to sleep, but he needs to properly warm up first.

You frown, "Jay, you should take a shower. You'll catch a cold."

He tightens his grip on you, not eager to let you go. You tuck your hand under his jaw, "I'll come with you."

This is a good enough promise to sway him. He nods, reluctantly pulling away from you. You slip off the bed, then shyly grab his hand. He intertwines his fingers with your own and follows you into the bathroom. It hits you that this is the first time you've held hands. Under better circumstances, it would feel nice.

You eye him up and down, taking in the damage under the bright bathroom fluorescents. His cheeks are flushed and newly decorated with tear streaks, but otherwise, he really doesn't look hurt. Just incredibly lost. Like he's not quite sure where he is. Green irises burn holes in you, golden flecks incinerating your skin, as if he's trying to figure out if you're real. The gaze is so intense, you have to look away for a minute. You conveniently make note of how funny of his scuffed up black boots look compared to your pedicured toes, bare against the checkered tiles.

He needs to get out of his wet clothes.

Sliding your hands under the shoulders of his sleeveless hoodie, you ask, "Can I undress you?"

He blinks. You hold your breath, praying you didn't just trigger something else. Then, wordlessly, he nods. You let out the breath as inconspicuous as you can and make quick work of the damp hoodie. His shirt follows. All scars, bruises and beauty marks look present and accounted for. Nothing new in the inventory. 

It's when you tug his gloves off that you finally locate any kind of laceration. Pebble-like imprints litter his palms; he must've been clutching something concrete like a stress ball for hours. He hadn't bothered with his usual red wrist wraps either, another sign he'd left in a hurry.

You don't pry, however. Instead, you kiss his reddened palms. Then, as your father taught you to do, you turn his still trembling hands over in your steady ones and kiss each knuckle gently. Unlike his forehead, his skin here is frozen until warmed by your loving lips.

Something about this interaction seems to ground the man a little more. You kneel to untie a beat-up boot, reminiscing about how your father used to let you take his loafers off for him when you were little. However, you've only managed to undo the other knot when Jason stops you.

"I can get the rest."

You're thrilled to hear him speak and nearly pop a kiss on his lips like it's a gold star before thinking better of it. You leave him to it, redirecting your focus on turning the shower on and picking out two fresh towels.

When at last he's naked, you make to shed your own minimal clothing. However, Jason stops you yet again, with time with an unsure hand on your bicep. He takes a moment to simply examine you once more in the good lighting, this time letting his eyes wander from your face. A hint of adoration crosses his drained features as his gaze combs your body, lingering on the curves and swells highlighted in baby pink.

Jason's index hooks around the thin strap of your slip. His thumb skims along the satin material before caressing your collarbone. It's a classic Jason move, but now it feels more akin to the way a child might grip a blanket.

"...Can I?" It's the shyest you've ever heard him speak. You nod and he brushes either strap off your shoulders, watching as the item pools at your feet. You give him a moment to admire the matching pink thong underneath before it joins the fabric puddle on the floor.

The shower is quiet, save for the dulcet sound of the running faucet. Jason winces when the hot water stings his frigid skin, however you can physically see the tension in his muscles melt away. His shoulders are much more relaxed beneath your washcloth, the rise and fall of his chest is becoming less stagnant. You take turns washing each other, like it's some kind of game. You touch him tenderly, still gauging for any kind of pain. He touches you with an intent that doesn't meet his drained eyes, still just gauging you.

When the silence is broken after who knows how long, it's by Jason.

"I don't deserve you."

His voice cracks like a 15-year-old.

"Don't talk like that," you chastise. He doesn't elaborate as his hand continues to rub body scrub along your back. You turn to him, both of your hands finding his face and holding it in place, the way he loves to do to you. "Don't talk like that."

You don't know what else to say. Neither of you are wordsmiths. You're afraid if you try to keep him talking, he'll just be self-effacing. You don't think you could handle hearing him talk about himself that way, not with him being as stubborn as he is. So you press a soft kiss to his lips. It isn't long, it doesn't invite more, but when you pull away, there's more green in his eyes. He envelopes you into his chest and holds you there. You return the embrace without hesitation, arms sliding around his waist while water taps the tops of your heads. You think you could stay like this forever; wrapped in each other's arms under the sanctuary of warm water, as the sound of his heart beat lulls you somewhere far away from the world outside the fogged up glass.

You do stay like that until the shower runs treacherously cold. Until one of you has to shut the faucet off, until the other is swathing each of you in fluffy wine colored towels. It's just a series of tasks you wordlessly complete so you can earn the reward of collapsing into bed, just dry enough to avoid waking up to a still damp pillow. You're both too tired to be bothered with pajamas. You aren't sure you're so wiped. Maybe you're just desperate to hold your lover again. He seems to feel the same way as he wastes no time reaching for your waist once the comforter is pulled up.

He slides down to kiss your shoulder and appreciate the warm scent of your body scrub. Much to your surprise, his head stays there. Even more to your surprise, you find it's because his eyes have fluttered shut. Jason never beats you to sleep, even at his most tired. But the relaxed weight of his body on your tells you he's winning this round.

You stroke the nape of his neck, grazing your fingernails through the tapered patch of hair. You'd been so focused on everything else that hadn't even noticed he'd gotten the haircut you'd asked him to. The request had been a joke really, something snarky to remark when he'd said something too nice about your appearance. It looked good, even from this angle. He must've just gotten it today. He must've gotten it for you.

Not everything's about you.

You try to push the thought out of your head as you admire the way Jason's cheek is smushed against your chest. If you lingered on it, you'd just started ragging on yourself, making it even more about. Earlier tonight had been the first time may be ever that someone with the last name Sionis had dared to consider something might not be about them. But what, did you want a cookie or something? A key to the city for your basic empathy?

Jason's earth rattling snore yanks you from your tailspin. You giggle quietly, no wonder he waits to fall asleep second. Your fingers resume wandering their course through his hair and a tremor runs down his back. He lets out a satisfied snort, his red lips parting. With a deep breath, he nuzzles into you. His usually hardened face is the softest you've ever seen it. Even the scars seem to fade. It's the complete opposite of the stony picture you woke up to. Despite the circumstances, you wouldn't trade the world for the sight before you.

You smile drowsily, ready to follow his lead and doze off when your phone vibrates rudely on the bed stand. You swear mentally, first at yourself for jerking so suddenly, then at whoever the fuck just had to send you a notification right this very second. A string of potential threats crosses your mind as you clumsily reach for the phone, gritting your teeth at the awkward way you bend your arm. It isn't easy to reach when a 225 pound man is slumbering (thankfully) unperturbed on top of you.

It takes you a few seconds to recall how to read as you glare blearily at the too bright screen. Your eyebrows knit when a message from an unknown number at last comes into view.

'Is he okay?'

You inwardly rescind your threats. It doesn't take a genius detective to deduce the identity of the sender.

'He's okay. He's sleeping now.'

The reply is instant.

'That's good. Moderate case of fear toxin, it should wear off all together by the morning.'

Ah, that will do it. You frown at Jason. A sick feeling creeps in at the thought of how terrified he must've been. That's why he seemed so unsure of you; you weren't the only thing he was seeing. Your poor baby.

When you glance back at your phone, there's another text.

'Are you okay?'

You blink.

'Yes, thank you. We're all fine here.'

There is one more response before you shut off the phone.

'I'll check in in the morning. I'm glad he's with you. Get some sleep.'

You're glad he's with you too. You're glad he came to find you. You're glad he wanted your comfort.

You're glad you would do anything for this stupid boy.

Jason sighs into your now dry skin. For just this moment, he knows nothing but peace. You'll fight off anything else.

Finally, you succumb to your exhaustion, knowing better than to disobey the Bat. The last thought you have is how warm Jason is wrapped safely in your arms before dreams of his shit eating grin take over. 

[ddostoyevskyy]

rainy szn, gn!reader, reader has a cold body temperature, timeskip!Katsuki, nsfw.

“You okay?” You heard him whisper on the skin of your neck, nuzzling his nose through your jaw as he heaves a sigh deep from his chest — like he’s been holding his breath back. It’s been a few moments after he shifted you awake with feathered kisses while the warmth of his large hands roamed around your body. The sluggishness from being unconscious makes your eyes heavy-lidded. But that doesn’t stop you from staring at him on top of you as he indulged himself with your warmth, pushing his cock deep and basking into the heat of the moment, while the weather opposes.

You hear the pitter-patters from the outside as you realized; it’s raining. The warm feeling of being naked in the sheets makes you almost not realize the sudden weather change. And it doesn’t help the fact that despite the feeling of being full of Katsuki and the oh, so warm palms roaming through your chest, hips and the small of your back — your body temperature dropped cold.

And it doesn’t help the fact that everytime it rains, Katsuki’s heart aches and your body cannot physically stay warm throughout this weather.

Katsuki could hear his heart echoes through his ears, reminding him that he’s alive, yet at the same time, it stings, it aches, it hurts, like he’s being stabbed. He felt awful waking you up like this, although he can’t help but to stare at your form; all disheveled and panting while the sweat from his palms glistened through your body. He subconsciously licks his lips as you reach out for him, your palm aiming on his chest where an explosion-shaped scar located and his breath hitches, a shiver run on his spine when the cold travels through his skin.

His cock twitches inside you, a breathy moan escapes his lips and you watch with awe. The ache between your legs seems to respond, could feel your insides throbbing with sensation when he spread your thighs so he could lean down closer to you.

“Mhm, fine. ‘S fine, Katsuki...” You mumbled, tracing his jaw with your fingertips. Katsuki’s sensitive when it rains, and much more sensitive with the cold temperature of yours. It felt surreal the first actualization. It dawned you. And you were hesitant to touch him ever since. And he knew.

His hips moves, a bit sensual and forceful every push, hitting that spot sporadically as though he knew your body well like the back of his hand. His mouth were on yours, near your ear seconds later when he focuses on fucking you with precision. His arm hooked around your hips, the other holding yours close where the scar on his chest are. His pace were getting intense as he grits and hiss through his teeth.

“Kats —!”

“Fuck, damn fucking — baby, I can’t hear you over the rain. C'mon, you should be louder than that, yeah?”

A choked sob strangles over your throat, the tears in your eyes making your head dizzy with pleasure. He can’t stop, not when the sound of the rain were subsiding on his ears and he can only hear you — you, you and you. This is what he needs when it rains; your warmth, this kind of sex where he could only hear you and never minds the rain while your cold fingers graze over the scar on his chest, or the expanse of his shoulder blades, or down on his back as you pin your nails, breaking the skin and marking his neck with your mouth.

“Yeah, yeah — just like that... Feels good? You with me?”

“Yes — ! Ah! D-Does it still hurts? This makes it feel better?”

Katsuki’s hips didn’t falters, yet his flushed face softened more with the question. His heart rhythmically throttles over his chest. It still aches, but it is tender, your hands cold yet it feels just right and he wondered if he just loves you so much his heart aches. The volume of your voice increases when he lost control, fully pounding into you with vigor to chase that high he’d been wanting since the rain started a while ago. His grip tightens, lips scattering marks all over your neck and chest and when you come down, he followed soon enough, filling you full but never leaving you empty.

“It does,” He answers, muffled as he buried his face in your neck. You were still panting, shredded with an intense afterglow and your attention drags through the window.

“It already stopped raining, huh?” You mumbled, hands playing with his hair that tickles through your skin and he hummed.

“You still feels cold.”

You blame the rain for that.

“As long as it doesn‘t hurt anymore, I’ll be alright, Katsuki.”

I love the rain. You wanted to say out loud, but you knew Katsuki will throw a fit if you do — because he hates it. He hates the rain as much as he loves the cold radiates through your body. He hates the rain because he can’t hear your voice within the patters of droplets of water through the roof as much as he loves making love with you when it rains.

You love the rain because as much as it hurts him, you can hear his thoughts echoes when the rain stopped and silence follows through.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄... It's rainy szn here in my country and I badly want this, like rn:( gimme Katsuki, pls

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved 2024 © ddostoyevskyy. Do not repost without permission or plagiarized.

[wheresarizona]

Thunder (only happens when it’s rainin’)

summary: In the middle of the night, during a bad thunderstorm, Javier helps you through a fear-induced panic attack. 

rating: T (Javier POV, age gap (about ten years), Husband Javier Peña, panic attack (physical descriptions only), emotional hurt/comfort, Javier calming you down, thunderstorm, banter, domestic fluff, suggestive mention of Javier’s dick, Javier offering to help you fall back asleep by either reading you The Fellowship of the Ring or a smutty book)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (a nurse with no physical descriptions)

word count: 1.2k+

a/n: This can be read as a standalone or part of the Learning to Live ‘verse—in LTL, it takes place a few months after their wedding. This one goes out to the anon who asked how Javi would help Cielito through a panic attack. He’d use this method or a variation of it any time she has a panic/anxiety attack. This is unbeta’d; all mistakes are my own. 

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Laredo, Texas - April, 1999

The window-shaking boom of thunder isn’t what has Javier jolting awake in bed and bolting upright to turn on his bedside lamp. It’s the blood-curdling scream beside him that’s like a shot of adrenaline with how it wakes him from the dead of sleep with his heart pounding and has him blearily looking around the dimly lit room for any sign of danger. 

Their bedroom door is still closed, and there are no intruders; rain can be heard battering against their windows, and when he focuses on his wife next to him, she’s also sitting up, worry cutting through him at how her breaths are coming out too fast and shallow as she hyperventilates, and tears stain her cheeks—she’s having a panic attack, triggered by the storm. Where she grew up, it rains the majority of the year, but they don’t have many thunderstorms, unlike right now when it’s Spring in Texas and severe weather season—it’s not the storms that scare her; it’s the loud noise that gets her. 

He’s scooting closer to her, pressing his big palm to her shirt-covered back, rubbing little circles, his voice husky and soft as he says, “We’re okay, Cielito—you’re okay.” Javier reaches with his other hand to take her smaller one into his, putting it on his bare chest over his heart where he knows she can feel it thudding. “Focus on me, baby—look at me.” Her head turns his way, and he’s met with panicked eyes and glistening cheeks. “Feel my heartbeat. You feel how it’s beating?” She’s still breathing too fast. “Focus on the beat—you feel it?” he asks again, and she looks at their hands. “Thud, thud, thud…” he repeats at the same rhythm of his heart. 

The therapist he’s been seeing for a while now taught him some techniques for when he has his occasional panic attacks, and right now, he’s trying to help ground her.

“See,” he says. “I’m right here, baby—you’re okay. I promise we’re gonna get through this. What are five things you can see?” 

“You,” she answers between heavy breaths.

“There’s one.” 

“Hand...” Her eyes move down. “Blanket…” Her head turns toward their bedroom door. “Door… Dresser...” 

“That’s it, Cielito.” He’s still rubbing her back reassuringly. “Tell me four things you can hear.” 

“You…” she says. “Fan…” Their small fan on his dresser by the door they use for white noise at night. “Rain…” Thunder rumbles in the distance, and her body tenses, a small whimper leaving her, and Javier’s hand on her back moves to hug her against him. She whispers, “Thunder…” 

“It’s moving away, baby,” he tells her. “Sounds like it just passed by. You’re doing so good for me—name three things you can touch.” She’s beginning to calm down, her breathing is slowing. 

“You…” There’s movement under the sheets of her wiggling her feet. “Blankets… Me.” 

“Good.” He kisses the side of her head. “What are two things you can smell?” 

“You… Candle…” They had a vanilla-scented candle burning before they went to bed.

Her breaths even out, and he knows she’s focused on him based on her answers. 

“There we go.” The following crack of thunder is so quiet that it’s barely heard over the rain outside and the whirring of their fan. “I think the worst of it is over—tell me one thing you can taste.” 

He’s sitting close enough to her that the sides of their bodies are touching. He’s got one arm around her back, keeping her against him, and his other hand still holding hers over his heart. 

Her face turns his way, and she lightly bites his shoulder, speaking with her mouth open, “You.”

Yeah, she’s calmed. He smiles. 

“Do I taste good, mi amor (my love)?” 

She’s still biting him. “Yes.” 

“Are you feeling better?” 

“Yes.” 

“Is there anything I can do to help you fall back asleep?”

Her mouth finally leaves him, and she meets his gaze, her eyes rounded. “Can I lay on your chest while you read to me?” 

Something she enjoys and relaxes her. 

He leans in to kiss her tenderly and asks against her lips, “Fellowship of the Ring—” What he’s currently re-reading for probably the thirtieth time. “—or whatever that book is you were reading last night that got you so hot and bothered you begged for my dick?” 

She broke away to look at him once more, and he let go of her hand to use his thumb to wipe away the remnants of the tears from her cheek. 

“As great as it’d be to have you narrate my smut,” she replies, “it’s gotta be Lord of the Rings ‘cause I am so fucking tired, like so tired, and queasy—I think I’m getting whatever that bug is that’s going around the hospital—" She’s a nurse at the local hospital. “—and I really don’t appreciate the stupid thunderstorm interrupting my beauty sleep.” 

Her answer makes him frown, and he presses the back of his fingers to her forehead. 

“You don’t feel warm…” he says. That doesn’t mean she isn’t coming down with something. “I’ll stop by the store on my way home tomorrow and pick up stuff to make you caldo.” The soup his mom always made when he or his dad were sick.

“That’d be nice, but,” she emphasizes, “food has been pretty hit or miss over the last week, so if it makes me puke, I swear on my ABBA Souper Trouper record—” Her favorite and most prized that she’s had since its release in 1980. “—it has nothing to do with your mother’s recipe and is just whatever the fuck this sickness is.” 

“I know, baby,” he replies and kisses her forehead. “Let me fix the pillows, and I’ll read to you.” 

When he starts to move, her hand quickly grabs his arm to stop him, and he turns his attention back to her. 

“Javi?” 

“Yes, mi amor?” 

“Thank you for calming me down.” Her eyes dart away. “Texas summers are literally hell, but for all of the years I lived in Dallas before coming here, I hated Spring the most because of the storms—what I’m saying is this isn’t the first time thunder has woken me up in the middle of the night and caused me to freak out.” The thought of her alone and scared makes his chest ache, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could’ve been there with her. “It’s happened before,” she continues, “and I always had to ride it out on my own. So, thank you for being here and helping me. Don’t get me wrong, it majorly sucked, but it was nice not having to go through it alone.”

He caresses her cheek to make her look at him, and he smiles. “I can promise you, you’ll never have to go through it alone again. I’ll always be here to help you, just like how you’re always there when my brain’s being an asshole because I love you, Cielito.” 

She matches his look. “I love you, too, Javi.” She quickly pecked him on the lips. “Three months, and you continue to reign supreme as Husband of the Year.” 

“And am I living up to my other title?” 

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Which one? ‘Cause Sexiest Man Alive, yes, you’ve got ‘99 in the bag. God of Sex, also yes, and I remain your devoted devotee. And you’re definitely living up to being the Hunkiest Hunk to Ever Hunk; no one will ever be able to out-hunk you, babe.” 

“Good.” 

Series Masterlist - Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

[sturnprime]

BREAK AND FIX, chris sturniolo 🩵

from h ꨄ︎ ⎯ hi so first time writing anything like this very very nervy

i hope you enjoy 🩵 (join the taglist here)

rain pattered against the panes of the window, a sombre reflection of the current mood that filled the atmosphere. the room portrayed an almost movie like scene with mounts of tissues scattered across the floor and a tub of ice cream haphazardly tossed beside the bed.

it had been a month and you thought it was supposed to get better, thought that the aching sensation in your chest was supposed to disappear with time but it only seemed to be getting worse. books you read fed you this dream of getting over everything easily yet you sat snuggled under your covers, eyes with red rims and nose tinted with hints of painstaking rose that uncovered your mask of emotions.

the worst part was you didn’t think any of this was affecting chris as much as it was affecting you. your mind began questioning a bunch of things; whether or not he still loved you, if his current emotions were as pathetic as yours, if he was even sorry for ending things so abruptly. none of it made sense from the way things had been so perfect one second only to entirely crumble the next all the way down to that irritating voice in the back of your head that kept telling you, you should have somehow done more to make him stay or not desire to leave.

loud ringing from your phone that was resting on your pillow pulled you out of the trance you had unwillingly slipped into, your eyes widening slightly at the suddenness and even more so at the contact name that was displayed across the screen.

your fingers danced across the surface hesitantly, silently contemplating in your head whether or not answering the call was worth it. you wanted to be strong and pretend you could simply allow it to ring until it didn’t but there was a sort of gravitational pull that made your fingers have a mind of their own. you swiped to answer the call, met with a beat of silence that had you regretting everything within seconds before a heavy sigh was heard on the other end.

“i miss you so much, y’know that? can’t stop thinkin’ about you,” his words sliced through the air and your heart like a freshly sharpened knife, crimson painting your insides in a manner so harmful, you suddenly felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

what hurt more than anything was the slight slurring of his voice that told you he was drunk. surely the saying went that drunk words were sober thoughts but it felt like clutching onto air when you searched for genuineness within his actions.

for a moment you were paralysed, unable to speak or even move as you processed what he said but eventually your words found their way out and you prayed they didn’t showcase your distress towards everything, “you’re drunk chris.”

“baby it doesn’t matter,” his words were laced with a hint of desperation and for a fleeting moment it felt like he was about to apologise for one of your pointless arguments but the moment was gone as quick as you blinked and the reality of the situation doused over you like a bucket of ice-cold water.

“chris i’m not… look just hang up and we can pretend this never happened okay? you don’t know what you’re saying right now,” each word that left you sounded foreign to your own ears, your voice lacking the excitement it used to hold when you spoke to him and in its place there was a semblance of melancholy.

there was shuffling on the other end and you could faintly hear the sound of his brothers somewhere else in the house. the toggles in your mind turned because you had assumed chris was at some sort of party but now that you thought about it, the only noise from the other end was his speech. there was no music or obnoxious chatter, just him and the now gentle sound of his breathing. it almost made you cave, almost made the barriers you had built up come crashing down.

but you had to be strong because of course you could give in but who was to say you wouldn’t end up in the same place all over again, internally pleading for a different outcome. so you ignored the craving inside of you to allow his words to drape over you like a comforting blanket, instead mumbling out a small goodbye and ending the call before waiting for his response.

the hammering inside of your chest didn’t disappear when the phone call ended, it increased and you could feel your anxiety bubbling up to the surface. the only solution you deemed possible was to sleep it out, to fall into a land of dreams where the world and the problems you were facing didn’t seem nearly as daunting.

with a reluctant sigh, you placed your phone on your bedside table as well as your glasses and got more comfortable under your sheets, pressing your eyes shut and hoping sleep greeted you as a dear friend there to take away your worries.

apparently the universe was on your side and you felt your eyes slipping closed within a few minutes and before you knew it, black filled your vision insinuating you had fallen asleep. your mind rested as you slept, the concerns that were plaguing your head before now long gone and unable to reenter the gates of your blockage.

the crepuscular rays of the sun awoke you from your much needed sleep and you groggily rubbed your eyes as you sat up in bed. with a few minutes of required mental preparation for the day, you clicked your phone on and paused when you saw the notifications. hesitance flooded your veins but no doubt this would be about the night before so you pulled it together and tapped on the notification.

chris

I’m sorry I was so fucking drunk I didn’t even know I called you last night

Can we talk?

you

talk about what?

i get it you were drunk shit happens

chris

That’s not what I mean

I mean properly talk

you

what could you possibly have to say to me

chris

So fucking much you have no idea

Please just let me come over and if you want after that I swear you’ll never see or hear from me again

One chance

you

fine

chris

Thank you

Seriously.

I’ll come over in an hour?

you

okay

what the fuck had you just agreed to? you felt dizzy with the thought of seeing him after a month but you would be lying if you said there wasn’t a little part of you that was the good kind of nervous. you and chris were no longer together but the effect he had on you had not vanished into thin air the moment he left. it may have been pathetic but even the mere sound of his name still had you fighting butterflies that threatened to let loose in your stomach.

for the next hour as you got ready for the day and had a little breakfast, you felt lightheaded. the seconds seemed to turn into minutes and before you knew it, your doorbell was ringing. it was almost comical how once upon a time chris would have stormed into your house like it was his own and announced he was home but now the ringing echoed in your ears. it was a stark contrast to what you had grown accustomed to and you felt nauseous at the unfamiliarity.

with a sickly feeling consuming you, your feet made their own way to the front door as you opened it, met with the sight of chris with his hair even more disheveled than it usually was. to others it would appear normal but you knew chris better than most and the odd angles his hair was sticking up in was a telltale sign he was nervous. it was a little comforting, the fact that you were both on the same page with your emotions for a second or so.

you moved to the side to allow him access into the house, an usual silence settling amongst you. the two of you walked into the living room wordlessly and then you slumped onto the couch.

chris cleared his throat and your eyes moved up to meet his. the different shades of his blue and your hazel flickered in recognition as you swore his breath hitched in his throat.

“i’m sorry… let me explain please,” and the pleading in his tone made you give in instantly.

yes you were weak but how could you not be when this was the boy you had fallen in love with? when this was the boy who had been there for you time and time again when you felt as though you deserved no one? you may have been weak but he made you so.

when you didn’t respond, chris took it as his opportunity to keep going, “i don’t know what i was thinking… you have to believe me when i say i fucked up. i never wanted to end it, i just got in my head and i made a mistake. a big fucking mistake please you have to understand… give me a chance.”

his pleading words were the only sound filling the air and it took everything inside of you to not console him. you had to remind yourself he was only hurt because he put himself in such a position, put the two of you in such a position. but the way his eyes were flickering with utter dread had your thoughts stilling until all you could focus on was him.

his hand moved to reach for yours and you should have pulled away instantly but his fingers felt like coming home after endless time away. your hand slot with his like two puzzle pieces and all you wanted was to be complete again. his thumbs swiped across your skin and you felt the flush before it came, felt the desire in your heart to stay in this vulnerable spot for eternity.

“chris how am i supposed to believe you? what happens when i give you a chance and this all comes back to bite me in the back? i can’t do it again, especially when i haven’t gotten over it the first time,” the words you spoke were a mere fragment of what you truly were feeling but any more thoughts lingered on your tongue until the taste became sour and bitter.

“i swear it won’t be like that. this time apart has shown me that i can’t do it without you. i love you, i love you even when i break you and it’s killing me. i want to fix things,” his voice cracked ever so slightly that you almost missed it but you knew him so incredibly well that you picked up on it instantly.

that torn up response made you want to glue him together. yes he broke your heart but your heart also belonged to him, used to beat to the melody of the both of you and you were not quite sure you wanted to stop listening to the harmonies just yet.

“i love you,” he repeated and you loved him too, despite the cracks he placed within your heart because once upon a time he had healed a heart he had never even broken.

“i love you too…” and it was not a lie, never had been since the first time you said it and he looked over the moon.

his eyes lighting up reminded you of the first time, of simpler times and it made you remember all the good moments you shared — ones you did not ever want to forget and craved to expand.

his body seemed to have moved closer, the gap between the two of you on the couch almost non existent but still it felt like lifetimes could slip between you. yet when he reached his free hand to cup your face, air couldn’t slip through even if it tried.

“can i kiss you? please,” he practically whispered and you nodded your head, silently accepting what this would lead to and even though it scared you beyond belief, chris still had a way of making you want to overcome every last fear you held as long as he was alongside you.

he didn’t waste even a second to connect your lips and the surge of electricity that shot through you was a feeling you came to realise you missed so fucking bad. he was practically on top of you as the kiss deepened and when he pushed you so you were laying on the soft cushion, you let him. his body hovered over yours and tongues collided in a rushed manner, a greeting between lovers who so desperately needed to reconcile.

his eyes held a concoction of hunger, affection and gratitude and you wanted to drink it all in. his hands moved to your top and with a silent word of agreement between you, he took it off and carelessly discarded it somewhere unknown.

he looked at you like he was seeing it all for the first time, like you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen and loved and it resulted in your heart soaring.

he pressed open mouthed kisses onto your collarbone and he spoke between each of them breathlessly, “god missed you so much… you’ve no idea… fuck.”

his lips trailed lower and lower, down your chest and to your abdomen and you fought the urge to squirm beneath him when they grazed the waistband of your skirt. it was as though you forget how to speak when he pushed the material down your legs and scrambled around to move it away from you.

“fuckin’ missed this pussy,” he muttered and you gasped when he kissed over the top of your underwear. he couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the sound but deep down he too was trying not to drive himself crazy at the small contact.

“chris…” it was barely there but he heard it and it just made him want more, made him slide the only piece of clothing standing in his way off until his pupils dilated in utter lust.

“tell me you want it,” he all but asked and from the rasp in his voice, how could you not?

“please… i want it,” you let yourself go and the corners of his mouth tugged up into a slight smirk before his lips latched onto the exact spot where you needed him.

it was immediate, the way your hands grabbed onto his hair and tried to pull him even closer. the erotic noises in the air were driving you wild combined with the feeling of his tongue lapping against you. it felt so fucking good and you knew he knew it just as well because he wasn’t coming up for breaks.

he was eating you out like a starving man whilst his hands tightly gripped the sides of your thighs, “taste so fuckin’ good angel.”

you moaned involuntarily and his tongue moved faster in response, a reminder of exactly who was making you feel good. you tugged on his hair when he sucked on a particular spot and he whimpered, the vibrations against you getting you closer and closer to the edge.

“please,” your body moved to meet his mouth more and his nails dug into your side.

“please what?” he asked you, lips barely leaving their spot as the words escaped him and you whimpered at the sensations consuming you.

“god ‘m so close,” you managed to whine out and he took it as his cue to suck harder until you were nothing but a withering mess.

he loved the control he had over you, loved the way your body flailed underneath him yet you obviously didn’t want him to stop. you moaned his name like it was a mantra and he wanted to play the words on repeat for the rest of his life. god he missed the sound of your begging and whining more than he thought. he was honestly obsessed with every part of you and he couldn’t even bring himself to think of what a fool he’d been for ever attempting to rid himself of that.

“yeah? you gonna cum for me baby?” his words were all you needed and he loved that he still had that effect on you.

your hold on his hair tightened as your body let go, a blissful feeling taking over as he raised his head, his chin covered in remnants that only seemed to turn you on more.

“i love you,” he said it yet again almost like he was solidifying his emotions and for a moment it remained in the atmosphere because it only felt right to allow it to do so.

your fingers trailed to his sweatpants and he grinned widely as you flipped him over so you were now resting above him instead. “i love you too,” you replied and he leaned up to kiss you simply because he could; it was deep and passionate and telling of everything he’d been feeling for the past month or so.

you removed his articles of clothing one by one and he allowed you to wordlessly, an admirable smile on his face and adoration painting his eyes. this was exactly what he needed and he knew you needed it too from your desperate gaze that raked over his now naked body.

“come on angel be quick about it,” he groaned as your fingers teased him and you smirked, a sight he wanted to capture in his head as if it were a mental picture.

“shh, we’re doing this my way.”

TAGS @mattslolita @eyeliketoeatpoosay @chrissturniolossidehoe @middlepartmatt @raysmayhem-72 @conspiracy-ash @fratbrochrisgf @pvssychicken !

[kurosagi-h8r]

Rain of Affection

Character: Alan Mido x reader

Summary: Trapped under the same tent during your camping, you had no choice but to seek warmth from each other under the sudden rainstorm.

tw/cw: just kissing. a bit slowburn maybe. grammatical error might exist

word count: 1340

The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and pine. The rain drops pouring down the tent like bullets made it difficult for you to hear anything else. It was soothing, in a way. But it put you in an awkward situation where you had no choice but to be stuck in the same small tent as your camping mate.

"I'm so sorry for making your tent wet, Mido..." You tried to hide the way your lip quivered from the cold. The jacket that was once protecting you from the rain is now dropping water on the floor.

"Take off your jacket. You'll catch a cold if you keep wearing that." He's sitting awkwardly in front of you, trying to make himself small to give you more space inside. Still, being the one carrying most of the supplies and gear, he had to carry them back in his own tent because of the sudden rain.

You're reluctant to take it off but he was right. You couldn't even hide your shivers anymore. "Maybe later... all of my stuff is outside, you see." Left outside under your unmade tent. You didn't even have the chance to bring it with you inside — not that there's any space left inside Mido's.

He awkwardly inched closer to you — even without doing that you could feel his breath on your skin. Flustered, your first instinct was to lean back, however you were met with bags of his stuff. His hand reached to grab something and you swore his shoulder almost touched you. You even caught a whiff of wood scent on him, most likely from gathering branches for the fire.

"Wear mine," He said.

You stared at the jacket on his hand. "But what about you...?"

“You need it more than me.” Alan sounded rather quiet compared to the sound of rainfall on top of him. “And we don’t know how long the heavy rain will last.”

Again, he was right. He knew more about camping better than you were, of course. You complied and took off your jacket. Some of the water at the hem of your sleeve left your skin freezing. Then Alan took your jacket and folded it to be put away elsewhere.

His jacket was thicker than yours, perfect for camping. Although the difference in size made you drown in it. Your hands could barely show themselves, but it made it easier for you to warm yourself. Looking at him, sitting in front of you wearing only a t-shirt that’s half drenched… won’t he also freeze himself like that? Even if he were, he clearly didn’t show it.

“Aren’t you also cold?” you asked. “I feel bad for having this all to myself…”

“You’re the one more drenched here, (y/n).” And you did. All because you weren’t that good in setting up your own tent. You couldn’t possibly ask him for help with that too on top of the pile of work he insisted on shouldering.

“Still…”

Alan was sitting with his legs crossed beside you, not looking particularly anywhere – for some reason you hope he's not trying to avoid looking at you. But sometimes you do wonder what he's thinking at the moment… because it's getting pretty awkward with just the two of you, unable to go anywhere with the heavy rain happening outside. So you decide to be the one to break the silence.

“Mido… what do you usually do to stay warm?”

That five seconds of another silence felt humiliating. Was it a weird question? Anyone can ask that, right? But if you hear it again, it feels like you were trying to suggest something. Oh God, what if he feels uncomfortable answering it…

As you were about to apologize to him, he responded with, “Exercise. But we can’t exactly do that right now.”

“Ah…” you nodded. It was expected from him. “That's one way to do it.”

Exercising was out of the option. You needed to look for another way so that he wouldn't freeze himself, because giving back his jacket was also not going to happen, he would pull out other excuses to refuse.

Then it came to you…

“We can sit closer…” in a normal situation, you would've wanted to hide yourself from embarrassment. “I can't let you freeze yourself, Mido. Please?”

He stayed quiet for a few seconds. “There’s no option for me to say no, is there?”

A smile tugged at your lips. You scooted closer to him, attempting to embrace him, trying your best to not make things even more awkward than it already has. His body went rigid upon feeling your breath on his skin, his mind was screaming for him to back away but your warmth… Alan couldn’t help but find himself starting to melt to your touch.

“Alan,” you said softly.

He swore it went straight to his heart. You shouldn’t have let his name roll off your tongue like that. What blush was to appear on his face and you had to witness that? What if his heart beats a little too loud that you could hear them? So close to your ears like how close you were that you could count his lashes.

“Can I maybe…”

“Hm?”

“Can I put my head on your shoulder… please?”

Before Alan could react, a sound of thunder roaring not so far frightened you; making you jump at your seat– accidentally pulling him tighter in your embrace. You were trembling all over and his body confirmed it. To think that seconds ago he was only thinking about his own pride and honor…

Alan – not wanting to frighten you even more – carefully wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him as he whispered in your ear, “It’s alright…”

His touches, albeit too rigid in fear of hurting you, brought you the comfort you needed. His hand soothing you on your back, and the other covering your ear from the loud noise. All you could hear was each other’s breathing, and each breath made you feel drowsy. In that moment all you wanted was to drown deeper in his embrace and never wake up.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked.

Thinking that he’s giving you a sign, you immediately put some space between you and him. But his hold on your back couldn’t get you far from him. “I’m sorry! I-i think I’m good now.”

His soft gaze was fixed on yours. “You sure?” 

The realization sent blood rushing to your face. His face was so close – too close that your nose almost touched. Did he ask me something? To be able to utter any word would be a blessing but your ability to talk seemed to jump out of the tent the moment your eyes locked.

Alan, with all the courage he had, “Y/n.”

“Yes…?”

He’s not sure whether you said something or not just now. Not with you looking up at him and your hair between his fingers. The voices in his head were whispering things to him. Telling him that he should let himself go and feel his fingertips against your skin; that he should do something with how lonely your lips were. You needed more warmth. So let him be your warmth.

‘Please don’t hate me for this,’ was what he wanted to say before he listened to his demons.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

And then the rainstorm stopped. The world to your senses was no longer thunder in the sky, or the scent of wet dirt, or even the piercing cold in your bones. All you could feel was… Alan. His trembling lips on yours, his hand on the back of your head, the heat spreading through your body.

Your world had become him.

Everything became Alan. You see him when you close your eyes, you taste him at the tip of your tongue, drowning yourself in him and all his desire to have you.

And there’s nothing you want but to seek deeper, into the depth of his affection.

[midnight-bay-if]

On the fake dating lets say the Ros and Mc are dating. But let's say Mc is with someone who not an Ro for the mission. 🫣 how would the Ros feel and act to knowing they have to watch or whatever? That Mc is with someone else?

(I hope this is okay! Sorry it took so long!)

S: S barely bats an eye. You're on a mission, after all, and they trust you. They trust the relationship you have built together. And when you return, they will congratulate you on a mission well done in any way you wish.

Rain: Rain finds it somewhat amusing. Every time the person makes some casual flirtatious remark or places their hand on you in a familiar fashion, Rain marks the attempt out of 10 on how much they know you will like or dislike it.

Taj: Taj is seething. Every time the person's hand rests on the base of your back or their lips inch close to your ear to whisper something close and intimate, Taj digs their nails deep into their skin. Their tail swishes almost violently as they glare from the rafters. Better for them to be out of site because there is no chance their anger wouldn't be noticeable to their mark. And even if Taj is pissed, they don't want to do anything that could possibly put you in jeopardy.

Expect them to be very annoying when you are finished, though.

N: N becomes insufferable. Every time a hand begins to wander, or you giggle a little too long at a "joke", you hear a snide remark inside your head. "I don't think it was that funny, my dear. Careful now. Or someone might suspect", or "Do they realise where their hand is right now? Would you like me to remind them? I promise I'll be gentle."

Good luck in drowning them out.

Umbra: Umbra's emotions ball up inside them in a messy knot until it becomes impossible for them to pull on the strand of one without tangling with another. They trust you, but they do not trust them. They love your smile but hate watching you smile for another. It's an ugly mask it creates on their face. Still, they will wear it. People should see just how unsightly they can be. Especially the person pawing at your back.

[ambiguouslady42]

Pairing: Hajime Umimeya x Chubby Fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff (for the time being), MDNI (I will block you)

Synopsis: It's cold and rainy. The Bofurin boys stop by for some good soup!

Tags: @pixelcafe-network, @jellyfishsart, @hayatoseyepatch, @awkwardchick87, @missvulpix212, @cottonlemonade

Note: Thank you Ele and Sam, my amazing beta readers.

Chapter 2: Pastina Soup

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

Chapter 1

It was rainy today. Not much foot traffic could be seen from the restaurant’s window. You figured this was natural because along with this rain, it’s freezing. You hate rainy days; you hate the water, but mostly because there’s a loneliness that comes with it. You moved away from home to find adventure, but you’re yet to feel that moment where you feel like you are a part of something or someone.  

The window finally got fixed before the opening day. You felt blessed to be in a community like the one in Makochi. Everyone was helpful and warm. The cost of the repairs also didn’t break the bank, so you felt lucky as far as chaos went. Your restaurant opened this week, and you’re delighted to have regulars. Your staples are lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, and tiramisu to name a few. You wanted to try having a weekly menu to experiment more The dishes were praised not only for their taste but for the sense of comfort that they bring. Tachibana came by to try your dishes and in return, she invited you to have lunch with her during the day. The boys were right, her omelette rice is to die for.

Speaking of the boys, you haven’t seen them as of late. You worry and think if there was something that you could have done to push them away. You shake your head and quell your worries with the likely outcome that they were dealing with other pressing business.

As you’re observing from the warmth of your restaurant you notice those specific jackets that you became familiar with. You notice Sakura at the front, with a glare on his face. From that instant, you run outside, without a jacket. Sakura fails to notice you, but then you see two other individuals trailing behind him. 

“Hey! Sakura!”, you call out “Sakura! Can you hear me?!” 

Sakura turns around to look at you and he instantly is startled that you would even call out to him. His two companions turn around and are as polite as ever. You notice that one of the boys has a blondish tinge to their hair, but he has a warm smile that you can’t be able to forget. The other has an eyepatch, but his manners don’t escape him.

“Hello there! I’m Suo! You must be the so-and-so we heard so much about last week.” He proceeds to continue smiling at you.

“Oh yeah! Your friend was such a big help to me last week. He came to my aid when I needed him. I am still grateful to him.” you tell him with a sense of pride

“I’m glad to hear that.” Suo proceeds to look in the direction of the blonde. 

“Oh…right! I’m Nirei, it’s very nice to meet you!”  he says with a bubbly demeanour.

The rain is starting to pick up and you’re beginning to feel cold. You’re elated to see the familiar faces, but you are yet to see the one who caught your attention last week; Hajime Umemiya. Suddenly you start to see a crowd of them walking right behind them. You notice that some of them are bruised and bandaged up. Right there in the crowd, you see him. Your heart begins to race just a little. You see the warm smile and he’s laughing amongst what you assume are his friends. 

“Hey, listen! I know it’s cold out and it’s raining, would you want to come inside and I could fix you something to eat!” you say as loud as you can so everyone can hear you.

“There wasn’t any need to shout,” Sakura grumbles as he makes his way inside the restaurant. 

“Thank you kindly.” follows Suo. Nirei smiles and nods politely. When they follow, the entire crew decides to come by, including him.

“Hey! Thank you so much for inviting us. Listen, I thought it would be a great idea to bring these to you!” Umemiya hands you some zucchini and eggplant. It almost feels like a bouquet in the way that you’re holding them. “I grew them myself and thought you might want to make something with them,” he says excitedly to you. 

Your body begins to surge with warmth, but you realize that you’re still outside. You slightly shiver and Umemiya observes this. “Let’s get you inside! Don’t want you to catch a cold!”, He says in his chipper demeanor. He wraps his arm around your shoulder as he opens the door to lead you inside. It’s refreshing to experience this kind of personality. One that is outgoing, chipper, and makes you feel like there’s an exciting surprise around the corner. He lets go of you, but you feel like his touch lingers.

As you’re inside and feel the warmth in your body, you observe the large number of men who are drenched from being outside in the rain. Concerned that they can catch a cold, you quickly decide to prepare pastina soup. You have some broth in storage; it’s time to get to work! As far as your beautiful bouquet of vegetables, you quickly try to think of what you can make. A-ha! You figure out you can fry these zucchini, and make a quick eggplant parmigiana. Of course, let’s also make some spaghetti. Being able to think on your toes allows you to become efficient in a kitchen. You hear the chatter and laughter from the inside of the kitchen. You hear the kitchen door open. “You can’t be back here right now, it’ll be another while before everything is ready”, as you’re chopping up the vegetables and setting the cooking oil to an optimum temperature on the stove. 

“I'm here to help.” the familiar voice says softly. 

“Oh, Umemiya, it’s you.” giving him a small smile. “Oh I couldn’t let you help me, you’re my guest.” 

His smile remains consistent. “I insist”, as you see him grabbing a spare apron that you have in the kitchen. “How can I help?”

You know you are smitten by the way that he is proactive. A man wanting to be proactive in your kitchen is the sure way to anyone’s heart. “If you’d like to help, start by turning on the oven that’s over there. You will want it at about 400° F. Next, you can take over chopping, while I check on the oil. We will be frying up this lovely zucchini. I’ll deal with the eggplant on my own.” 

“Yes, ma’am!” Umemiya salutes you. Having the majority of the zucchini chopped, you begin to fry the vegetable, making sure that it won’t burn. Some of the oil jumps and it grazes your hand, but you walk it off as there is too much to do.

“You okay?!” Umemiya asks. 

“Of course, this is nothing.” He is amazed and shocked at how you tolerate pain. You’re running back and forth between chopping and patting down the eggplant. “You have nothing to worry about! This is normal and it just tells me to lower the heat.” you smile at him as a way to confirm that he has nothing to worry about. He takes this as a sign to stop pressing the matter. He would do the same if he were in your position. 

“So what were you and your comrades doing out there?” you ask him as you’re laying the eggplant in a baking dish.

“Ah, that. We were dealing with a certain group and we just needed to have a conversation with them. I feel it was very productive, and there’s no more to that now!” Umemiya tells you with that smile that could melt millions of hearts. 

“Is that everything that happened?” you ask him in a playful tone. You walk just past him to try to reach for some necessary spices. However, you realize that they’re way too high up for your reach. “Why did I place this so high up? What was I thinking”, you said to yourself. “Need any help with that?” he asks as he is standing behind you. 

“Yes, do you mind reaching for that? Sorry, just vertically challenged.”, you point to what you need. He stands next to you. You realize that he’s standing very close to you; you can smell his musk. It has a tinge of sweetness with herbs; it’s inviting to you. The cheeks on your face begin to turn red. He grabs the spices with ease and turns to see you. “Is this everything that you need?”, with such a reassuring smile. “Yeah…thanks”, you say quietly. 

Using the spices, you add them to your broth. At this point, you know you wouldn’t mind having a bowl of this soup. The smell begins to linger in the air and it starts to travel outside of the kitchen door.

“Mmm, what’s that smell?!”, someone can be heard from outside. 

“It’s almost ready!”, you say as loudly as you can to be heard. You take note of what’s already ready to be served. Course 1: soup and fried zucchini. As you are plating everything to your liking, Umemiya grabs a tray and places the bowls of soup to be served. “Oh wait! You don’t have to do that! I can do it!” you shout at him as he’s walking away. “Nonsense, I said I would help!” he retorts back as he’s already out the door. 

“Okay! Okay! I got soup ready to go. Take your time!” Umemiya can be heard saying joyously to his comrades. 

Nirei is the first to take a sip of the soup. “Oh my goodness! This is the best soup I’ve ever had!” Within seconds, he takes out his notebook and pen to write down what notes he can taste. Suo who is sitting next to him, slowly takes his sips and quietly nods his head to agree with Nirei. Sakura proceeds to follow their lead. His eyes open wide, but refuses to comment on the taste. His comrades take note of his face turning bright red.

“Is something bothering you?” asks Nirei.

“NO! What are you talking about?!” Sakura retorts back as he takes another sip of the soup.  

You step out of the kitchen to check in on how everyone is enjoying their soup. You take notice that Umemiya has not yet had his portion. He’s still standing with his hands behind his back as if he’s waiting for the next command. 

“Would you like to take a seat and have some food?” you ask him.

“No, I’d rather help. I’m kind of looking forward to having my meal with someone.” He’s looking at you with those soft, grey eyes and a gentle smile. This time, you’re feeling something in your stomach flutter. You realize that he’s talking about you. 

“If you insist, Ume” you turn around and head back to the kitchen. 

The main course will include small plates of spaghetti and your eggplant parmigiana. You feel like you outdid yourself preparing the eggplant as you take a small bite to see if it’s missing anything. Umemiya comes to meet you in the kitchen to help with the plating process. “Would you like to taste the eggplant you gifted me?” you ask him.

“Did you like it?!” he asks you excitedly.

“Just try it.” You’re giggling a bit as you prepare a clean spoon for tasting.

“I knew this would come in handy for you!” He grins excitedly.

“Thanks again. It was really sweet for you to bring me some vegetables,” you respond to him. 

“I finally found someone who I think will appreciate the vegetables that I care so much for in my garden,” he responds to you. 

“I’d love to be able to see it sometime..,” you tell him with a shy smile.

“Just let me know when and we’ll make it happen.” he grins to you.

You watch him taste your parmigiana and the grin and the way his eyes glow confirm that you achieved your desired outcome. As you finish plating everything, Umemiya is quick to deliver this to your guests. 

You step out to see the constant glow on your guest's faces. You notice that Nirei is once again writing in his notebook. You step right behind him to take a glance at what he’s writing down. He notices the shadow cast behind him. “Whatcha writing down?” you ask. 

“Oh! Um, um, it’s nothing! Really!” Nirei is panicking. 

“No no, I just want to know!” you smile at him reassuringly. As Nireihands you the notebook at where he’s been writing. You notice that he’s been trying to find the notes in your soup and is trying to write down the possible ingredients in your pasta sauce. 

“If you wanted to know what I put in my dishes, you just need to ask!” you tell him. 

“Really?! Are your recipes not a secret?” he asks earnestly.

“Absolutely not! I just prepare everything as I’ve learned it as I travelled around. Of course, I modify things to my liking.” Everyone suddenly starts looking in your direction as you're excitedly talking about the places you’ve been. As you notice the gazes, you stop. You look around and see that Umemiya is looking towards you with that smile. You turn bright red and walk away back into the kitchen. He follows right behind you.  

To distract yourself, you start to prepare your serving of food. Your stomach is grumbling; you can’t remember the last time you ate. Your hands are shaking as you try to grab the ladle for the soup. “Here, let me help with that.” Umemiya grabs the ladle from you. “I look forward to hearing all about your adventures and why you ended up here.”

“I’d love to tell you about everything,” you say quietly.

“Wonderful! I look forward to it!” that reassuring grin appears. 

You realize that there’s a lot of food that you need to be able to eat. You don’t know if you’ll be able to finish it all.

“Don’t worry, whatever you don’t finish, I’ll make sure to help you. Your wonderful food shouldn’t go to waste!” he tells you. You observe Umemiya stepping out of the kitchen with your meals. You check to see that everything is off. He places your servings near the table closest to the window, away from everyone else. You sit right across from him. You're both smiling at each other as you place a napkin on your lap. 

“So tell me where you came from before Makochi?”

He looks at you intently, curious why someone as adorable as you would move here. He takes a sip of the soup; just as he thought: heart-warming and comforting, just like you.

[her-favorite]

NESSA BARRETT

NESSA BARRETT X F!READER

warnings: angst, kind of a fwb vibe, no happy ending.. that’s it (i think)!

wc: 1,543

a/n: requested! gif creds to sweetfridays !! - honestly, this is the first thing i thought of when i read the request (since the plot wasn’t specified) & i lovee dramatic breakups and old movies and it made me think of that :))

SYNOPSIS: She wasn’t looking for love.

“You.. You can’t just leave!”

Heels click against the floor as you hastily follow behind your girlfriend - or, ex? Ridding yourself of the fleeting thought, you can feel the way your throat closes up with sharp intakes of air. It didn’t have to end like this - how did this even happen?

Black hair shines as her head shakes, her feet leading her outside and onto the pavement. “Watch me.” Nessa mumbles, her voice raspy from the overwhelming emotion that consumes her. The cool breeze passing through the night made goosebumps raise on your already cold skin. To say you were scared was an understatement - were you going to lose Nessa?

“Baby, talk to me!” You exclaim, your hands stretch out in front of you as you plead. I’m right here, they say. I’m laid out for you. “We can fix this, just.. please.” You all but beg, eyes becoming glassy as you watch her from behind, quick strides of her feet trying to get away from you.

Nessa swallows dryly, exhaling shakily. She had immediately picked up on the wobble in your voice, knowing how vulnerable you were being to her right now. She knew that you were on the verge of tears.. but hers were already falling. The girl sniffles as she harshly wipes away a few tears that had fallen, her back still to you.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

Everything was wrong, it shouldn’t have to end like this. It wasn’t supposed to - it wasn’t supposed to end at all. Nessa was supposed to be with you forever, to love and care for you as you did for her. To have dinner together, to take showers and watch tv. To lay in bed together, to listen to her new music together, to take care of her cat. All of this was wrong.

“Ness, look at me.. please.” You whisper, a fateful tear cascading along your cheek. By now, you’ve stopped trying to follow her, residing on the sidewalk as you try to calm your breathing. You hated the way a spark of hope flickered inside you when she listened.

Nessa turns to face you, a neutral expression overtaking her, despite the black makeup dripping down her cheeks. The sight alone made your shoulders fall, a piece of your heart drying out and fading away. How could she still look so beautiful, even in tears? She always had a way to make you breathless.

It was like something in the universe had known of your predicament, the weather seeming to adjust to your current feelings. It started off slow and gentle before the rain picked up, soaking you and Nessa as you both stand a few feet apart on the sidewalk. You’d be dead before you even thought about walking away from this, even for shelter from the harsh weather. If you were honest, not one part of you was thinking about how your hair was becoming knotted with the water and how your clothes were beginning to stick uncomfortably to your body - all that consumed you was Nessa. You didn’t care about anything else. Maybe that was the problem.

“This wasn’t supposed to go this far.” Her voice was small, but you heard it. You definitely heard it.

It was as if you could feel your own legs giving out beneath you. Your body felt weightless, as if you could hear every little intake of breath from your lips or the way distant sirens just barely echoed off the walls of the buildings around you. Otherwise, it was silent.. utterly silent.

“What do you mean?” You try your best to keep your voice steady, but it cracks at the end of your question. How could it not? You were so confused, what could she possibly have meant by that? Was this ever even supposed to happen? Did she not love you the way you love her?

Nessa sniffles again before averting her gaze. She couldn’t even look you in the eye - how was that fair? She blurted that out and now she can’t even look at you?

“This.. fuck,” she chokes out, bringing her hands up to her face for a second before letting them fall back down to her sides. “I - when we.. got together, I didn’t want this to go past just.. what we already had.” Nessa tries to explain, her soft voice shaking. The both of you had yet to move from your spots on the pavement, either too scared to move incase one of you were to run away or yell - neither of you knew.

“Y/N, I.. can’t love you.”

Shattered. Everything was broken.

Your heart, your friendship, your happiness. It was all gone.. just because she couldn’t fall in love. You’ve never given her reason to believe that you’d break her heart, you knew that. Not one night had you declined her invitations, too high on the drug that was Nessa. She’s always been yours, no matter if it were spoken or not. Always.. what changed?

Before you could respond, Nessa parts her lips again to speak. It was obvious you were stunned, too speechless to even try and use your words.

“I wasn’t looking for love - ”

“I never asked you for it!”

You resented the way a flicker of utter irritation washed over you at her words. Not once had you felt such anger towards Nessa before - how could you? She was the sweetest person you’ve ever met, someone you’d be foolish to not fall in love with. But here you are.. with the consequences of doing such a thing.

Tears fell from your eyes unwillingly, though you knew they wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon. You hated being so vulnerable, especially in front of the one person who felt like betrayed you. A part of you knew that you shouldn’t feel that way, though deeper inside, you blamed yourself for this. You had agreed to her undisclosed terms, too greedy for her touch and closeness, not thinking of how attached you’d grow to it. Now - you knew - you’d long for the way her hands feel on you, tired and cold at night as you’re plagued with the haunting memories of Nessa so indulged in you.

Now you were to fall asleep alone.

You knew your words weren’t true. Technically, you hadn’t asked for it.. but you knew you wanted it - craved it. You needed her for yourself, despite the nonverbal agreement that you and Nessa weren’t admittedly together. And that thought killed you because, despite it being true, you had went day after day trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t. That you and Nessa were together, and that she just liked to keep things private - that she made you sneak out the backdoor after a long night because of paparazzi or someone finding something out. But, deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case. You knew.

With a soft sigh of your name, Nessa anxiously runs a hand through her hair. It was easy for her to pick up on your body language or the way you spoke with a certain tone in your voice; another reason why she’d be so good for you -

“We can’t do this.” She whispers, as if it was some secret - something wrong and bad. Like she was ashamed.

“Why?” You exclaim, unable to hold it back. Tears freely fall, but - by now - you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your feet move before your brain as you take fast steps towards her small frame, though she doesn’t move. It was like she knew this was going to happen. “Why not? Nessa, we’d be so good together.” You cry, bottom lip involuntarily trembling as you look at her with the most pitiful - beautiful, in Nessa’s eyes - expression she’s ever seen before.

“We have fun! I help you with your music, we.. we watch our shows together, I hold you when you cry - ” a sob of your own cuts you off. Nessa’s heart tears to pieces. “You can’t do this, please.” You beg. “Please, not us.” You whimper, shaking your head. Your eyes follow the tear that travels down her cheek.

Nessa’s hands reach up and cup your cheeks gently in her palms, locking eyes with you. “I never meant to hurt you.” She says softly, the same rasp from earlier coming back, telling you that she was holding back her own emotions. “I’m sorry it ended like this.” Ended?

She leans forward, tilting her head up to press a kiss to your forehead. So many times had her plump lips touched other places on you, but never had they felt this devastating.

As she pulls away, her eyes meet yours before she walks away down the sidewalk. You’re left there, standing and soaked with the rain as you watch her fleeting form. How bad you wanted to run and catch her, to stop her and kiss her, to make up for everything. But there was nothing else you could do besides stay and watch her leave.

Her kiss on your forehead was all you had left of her.

tags: @tan1shere @loving1dsworld @marvelwomenarehot0 @strnilolover @luv-sturno @pr3ttyf4wn

[keelt9]

Chapter 5

Masterlist

Montreal definitely wins the trophy of the most rainy race until now. When we arrived in Canada, the sky was gray but nothing else. Now, with the beginning of media day, a pretty background with lightning appears earlier in the morning.

As Lewis kept working in his media duties, I was on the rooftop from the hospitality working in layouts Thomas sending me, one of my house and the other for the shelter.

The lighting makes someone curse as it goes up stairs, I giggle when Rosa appears grabbing her chest scanning the room.

“It’s just a lighting Rosa.” She scoffs and sits at the other side of the table.

“You've been working all this time?” I nod and raise an empty bag of snacks, following for a new one I just opened. 

“And eating.” I saved the file to avoid a disaster before closing it and left it aside so I can talk to her without distractions.

Rosa takes the open bag and scrunches her nose. “Dried seaweed?”

I giggle. “I lost a bet with my brother, so he will be choosing my snacks for a whole week.” 

Talking about the king of Rome, Lewis appears in the stairs already changed and pretty excited for the end of a media day.

“You punish her with snacks?” Rosa complained right away, Lewis rolled his eyes, sitting next to me. “She loves her snacks.”

Lewis looked at me as I stuck my tongue out. “She lost! Besides these are healthy ones.” 

I laugh at the same time two lightning flashes appear in the sky. 

“How can you work here? It’s windy, there's lightning and it’s starting to get cold.” Rosa looks at me, relaxing her lethal eyes; at least I have a hoodie to cover me from the wind.

Lewis shakes her hand. “Thank you. Is the same thing I told her.” He scans the rooftop; all the boys and girls of the cafeteria were already in the lounge. “Let’s go, you’re an amused person.”

“There is no one here.” I raise my hands as he takes my laptop. 

Rosa ate seaweed and scrunched her nose standing, like her it took me a while to get used to the flavor.

“From far.” Next to us is the Red Bull hospitality, the upper floor is crowded with cameras and cellphones getting ready for record.

I stand and follow them with my bags in my hands. The salty flavor? Yes, I could get used to it.

The day of P1 came with a slight rain from time to time. I like the rainy days however I hate Lewis having to drive with this kind of weather. 

“Take care ok?” I ask Lewis at the back of the garage. “I’ll be right here.”

Lewis smiles, grabbing my cheek. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry too much.”

Once the member of his team appears in the room, they are ready to go. Lewis smiles at me before walking away. 

All the practice, I was pressing my hands together and cracking my finger trying to stay calm even when all is in total calm; it was until Lewis's car stopped and he got out of the car I could relax a little bit.

We don’t need any words, he just passes next to me and grabs my arm walking away with his team, he’s safe. 

I heard indications that all the cars must be in the garage in 20 minutes, so I reached Bono who’s about to walk inside the room for the feedback with an innocent question in mind.

“Hey Bono, is there a problem if I go and walk along the track for a while?” I don’t see Toto coming too. 

“Little H, give them 30 minutes and you can go.” Toto smiles entering the room.

Bono raises his shoulders. “You hear the boss.”

By the time I see the cars passing in front of the garage and George’s and Lewis’ getting inside too, I see my clock and 40 minutes have already passed.

“Take an umbrella.” Rosa said to me when she saw me walking out of the garage. 

The sky is still cloudy, a few drops won’t hurt me.

“It’s ok, I’ll just be out for a couple of minutes.” I put on a huge black jacket. “This is enough.”

Rosa shakes her head as she keeps talking with her team.

It’s nice to get some fresh air; combined with the few drops over my head that made me feel relaxed, the loud noises from the tools, people and other equipment became distant after a while.

It was the sound of footsteps and faster breathing that made me turn around seeing Max trying to keep his suit race on at the level of his waist.

“Do you have something to do with the rain?” I stop, waiting for him. “In this week, every time there is a high chance of a storm you are sitting or walking around open space.”

Unintentionally the corner of my lips rises as I put my hands on my pockets. For the first time there is not this discomfort sensations with him.

“I believe you don’t have trouble getting wet, a little bit. Do you mind if I join to you?” I see Max with her big jacket too. “A quick walk along the track.”

I breathe in slowly and keep walking, he remains in his spot, so I turn around but don’t stop walking. 

“You coming right?” Max smiles make me smile.

For 40 minutes Max told me about old races on rainy days with stories about mistakes that almost turned into a disaster and funny moments he could remember, the way he speaks and the fact his hands seem to do it too actually made me laugh a couple of times.

Even from time to time I challenge myself by asking him a few questions about him and his first years of racing.

“Aren't you curious? What will be living a day with so many things happening around you.” Max chuckles. 

“I mean, I don’t mind being anonymous from time to time.” We’re walking back to the garage, our clothes weren't damped. The rain stops after a while leaving us with windy weather. “Still, I curious about something.”

He stops talking, making me curious, looking at him. “About?”

“Trying to figure out what you are thinking when you look at me in that way.”

I laugh lightly, it’s not a big change I have towards him, still he notices it. “I guess you're winning the benefit of the doubt.” After all, every conversation we had before I cut it out rudely, this is clearly different.

“I’m taking a pole position?” I genuinely smile at him before turning my face away.

“You have your moments.” The posture of Max relaxes, his shoulders go down even his steps seem light.

He keeps talking about a lot of things and I carefully listen to him until the paddock is a few meters away from us, time to split. 

“I can get used to being surprised by you.” Max said, as we reached the main gates. We visibly relax even if our jackets are clearly  wet.

He looks at the garages and smiles in a wily way. “The Red Bull garage has a nice spot to see the race. Maybe next time you don’t mind seeing different colors in a car.”

“I have a busy diary.” I take my hands from my pockets. “Besides, I'm in the Mercedes team right now.”

Before I could say something else I see Lewis coming out of the garage zone talking with Rosa going to the hospitality.

“I have to go, thanks for walking with me, Max.” I didn’t even reach to give 3 steps when multiple questions attacked my mind.

Bloody hell.

“Max.” I walk back where he remains standing. “I can make you a space… maybe.” 

My phone buzzes the photo Roscoe appears on the screen, it’s Lewis. 

Max didn’t say another word, making me feel shy, so I turned around to keep walking.

“I’ll take it as a <yes>!” Max shouts out as a wide smile appears on his face.

The following days were great for Lewis, he started the race from the second row, making him reach the third position. For my peace I watched the race from the paddock even when the rain stopped hours earlier; there some part of the track still wet, from T.V was hard to see.

Lewis reached me in the hospitality room covered in champagne and a big smile on his face. 

“Congrats!” I stop before hugging him. “Save the hug for later.” 

We high five as he goes to change for the last interviews he had for the day, and we can fly right away to home. We don’t want to miss any birthday of the family if we can be there, even if Lewis could be there just for one day.

I spent that week in London making a quick trip to Newport to see the progress of the house.

“Are you taking Roscoe with you?” Thomas asked as we stood seeing the people working, Roscoe next us. 

“Of course, it’s Austria. Besides, after that I'll be in Monaco for a couple of days sending my things back to London.” I get down, kissing Roscoe's face. “He gives great advice for packing.”

Thomas laughs. “Have you already mentioned something to Lewis?” 

I sigh. “I will, in Monaco.” 

After long days of thinking and talking with friends and family I decided it’s time to stop my travels around the world; with the places set for the shelter and my house along the crucial moment of finishing the project, I need a place to stay calm and be close in case something comes up. That’s why the last GP I will be with my brother, be the one previous to summer break.

“Are you sure? I mean I can keep you informed about every single thing if you need.” Thomas already suggested to me at least I should close this season with Lewis.

“Do you know how tiring it is to travel every week?” I roll my eyes and shake my head. “This is temporary, I don’t want you to screw my house.” 

Thomas scoffed and put his arm around my shoulder looking around. He, like Mika, stands next to me in the worst times, making me aware every day, if I feel the strength left in my body, I always can lead on them.

“This is a nice place to start, after all.” Roscoe barks, calling for us to pay attention. “Don’t worry buddy, I’ll make this a fortress but at the same time I built a nice garden for you.” 

It’s the bulls house, so a lot of his colors were in the fences and every visible place. We arrived in Austria one day before the race, but Lewis suggested that Roscoe and I stay in the hotel, by the time we arrive they would probably be finishing the qualy. 

So that’s what we do, Roscoe and I relax in the hotel near to the pool when Lewis reach us. Roscoe immediately notices him running, pretty excited for the way his little tail moves.

“Hi there.” Lewis hugs me sitting next to me. “How was the flight?” He asked if we didn’t take his jet with us.

“Calm, private.” He laughs. “A tricky day tomorrow, right?” 

Lewis bluffs and assents. “Not the best spot, but we will work on that tomorrow. Anyway, are you hungry?“

Roscoe barks. “We do.” Lewis chuckles while standing so we can go to eat something.

We came back at night tired and stuffed, as I told him the idea of Thomas about the refuge like me, he’s pleased.

“Oh, I have the tickets for the race.” Lewis invited them to the GP of Silverston, the next race in two weeks. “I’ll give it to you at home, ok?”

As we’re waiting for the lift, Roscoe barks when the door opens, Leo in Alex's arms. 

“Young boy, hi.” I greet Leo when they come out. “Charles, Alex, goodnight too.” 

The couple giggles and lets Leo on the ground for the dogs to say hi. 

“Y/N, Max was looking for you.” I choke with my own saliva winning the eyes of three people and two dogs. 

“Are you all right?” Alex asks but I just nod. Thankfully the people who were waiting came out in the other lift, avoiding the talk.

Inside of the lift, I feel Lewis' eyes on me. “You’re taking Roscoe for the night? I ask, trying to switch the topic keeps floating in the air.

“Yeah, I’ll take him to the track.” He simply answered and didn’t say anything else. When the lift reached my floor I thought I would avoid an uncomfortable talk.

“See you tomorrow.” I kiss both of them but Lewis holds the door for a second.

“You know you can talk with me about everything, right?” I almost avoid it. 

“I know.” I reassure him with a smile waving my hand as the door closes. 

In my room, I hide my face on the bed, feeling embarrassed, but the constant buzz of my phone makes me answer the video call.

“Jesus! You scare me!” Mike fakes surprise for my messy hair. “Are you blushing?”

Oh my word, I shake my head, and breath in trying to calm. 

“Is that all?” Mika giggles and raises her hand. 

“Hey, it’s quick, the green one or the blue one?” She raises two dresses in front of her.

“Is it for your date with Thomas?” I wink at her, now who’s blushing. 

Thomas and Mika had a couple of dates, claiming it’s just a friend's meal, but I’ve seen the way they look at each other, and that’s a lame excuse.

“Y/N, focus.” I laugh but I choose the green one. “I have time, you can talk all the time you want.”

Mika, every time she’s nervous, she talks without anything could stop her. 

In the middle of our talk about a funny consultation she had that morning, a soft knock on my door distracted me.

“It’s ok, I almost finish.” She is straighten her hair. 

I shake my head, I wasn't waiting for anyone. “No, it’s ok, Lewis knocked three times before entering.”

After a few seconds, I hear the knock one more time, maybe it’s important after all.

“Sorry Mika.” She smiles and stands in front of the camera giving me a full look of her. “He’s done.” 

Mika winks before saying goodbye to hanging out. 

I walk to the door, as I was talking with Mika I change my clothes for my pjs, I open without even asking, the tiredness taking my body, and close it right away.

Max is at the other side of the door in black shirt with black bags. 

After a long breath, I opened it one more time. “Sorry, you took me by surprise.” 

Max nod and clear his throat. “Sorry, it’s late I know but …” His cheeks are softly turning pink. “Here.”

It's a VIP pass, I choke my head. “Thanks? I mean, I already have one.” I take it from his hands turning around. I see it, it’s from RB garage.

I bite the inside of my cheeks, feeling awkward. “You know I don’t mean a right away invitation, right?”

In Max's face you can see the confirmation of his worst scenario.

“Of course, I imagine that so I came prepared. This is for any GP, when you feel ready to come.” He has that cute smile one more time.

I nod and keep it. “Good night Max.” 

“But.” He closed his eyes. “I'll make my open invitation valid.”

This boy confuses me so easily.

“Checo mentioned you visited Lewis constantly, right?” I nodded slowly. “Would you have a walk with me next time?”

His eyes were closed one more time so he didn't see me smiling at him.

“It's not for being rude but when I'm in Lewis' home it is practically for me to be working on endless paperwork or packing some things I have there…So, I don't have so much time for walking around.” Isn't a lie but I hope Max doesn't feel I turned him down in a rude way, again.

“Perfect! I could help you with that.” He surprised me that I couldn't answer right away. “If you don't mind, of course.”

“Mhm, no, I…I…I don't want you to feel bored or anything like that, so it's ok, we can leave it open.” My mind is struggling to find another excuse.

“It's ok, I don't mind, we talk more comfortably.” He answered calmly, extending his hand for a shake.“Deal?”

I tightened my fist, he raised his eyebrows in a funny way.

I take his hand. “Deal.”

Lewis is right, the race for him simply doesn't go as he expects leaving him in the 8th position. 

After his interviews he always finds a moment of calm along Roscoe; who as typical of him steals glances and hearts from everyone.

When finally we can go home, I see in the RB hospitality a lot of people with happy and exciting expressions, and the multiple race winner in the middle of it.

“Ready?” Lewis asked, coming out ready to go.

“Yeah, let's go.” I take a last look at a victorious Max.

By the second day in Monaco Lewis forgot he had tickets for the Roland Garro in France, he invited me too but there are things to send to London in a few days.

“Are you going to be fine?” Lewis asked, giving Roscoe a piece of celery.

“Sure. We wait here for you to take us home.” Lewis giggles. “Have fun, we have a lot of packing and arrangements, don't worry.”

It's been half of a week in Monaco and Max doesn't give any signs of life, so he probably gets it that being stuck inside of the apartment when he can enjoy the no race week, is a waste of time.

“Hey, it's okay if I invite a friend to help me with…?” Although I couldn't avoid asking 

“It's your house too.” He stands to cut more fruit for us. “I'll be back Wednesday night.”

“Is anything granted, just in case.” Roscoe sees me and growls a little bit. “What?” I whisper to him.

Roscoe walks to his bed taking with him the fluffy lion. “And you’re judging me?” 

“I promise, when you come to my new house, I'll make more than pancakes.” Roscoe licked his nose before we came out of the building.

I turned to my left slightly, then I saw Max in casual jeans walking inside the building.

“This isn't…Come here, baby.” Roscoe follows me as we follow Max reaching him outside of the lift. “Max?” 

He turns around surprised to find us. 

“Hi, I was about to go up.” He petted Roscoe's head. “I guess you're already finished, right?”

“For the…” He nods. “No, I mean, yes, I…I could say that.” I cover my eyes trying to put my ideas in order.

“I mean, yes, I already finished, my brother helped a lot.” Max put his hands in his pockets. 

“Sorry, I have a busy week and well, it would be weird if I call Lewis for he let you know that.” He laughs.

“It's ok, I just have to close a few boxes and put in order a couple of files, I appreciate you coming.” He smirks, I narrow my eyes.

“I will help you with that.” I shake my head. “A good talk will be helpful after all these days.”

That's how we end up in Lewis apartment putting tapes over the boxes and putting papers in order. 

Max was entertaining with something until I realized he was reading the papers of the refuge.

“This is yours?” I nod but I don't take it so much importance. “You have a refuge?”

I walked to see what caught his attention, the sketch of the logo. “Not yet.”

Max sits on the floor reading carefully as he keeps asking me questions about the refuge and all related too; without realizing I ended up telling him about my journey with this project sitting in front of him, on the floor of Lewis living room.

“This seems pretty good, of course I'm not an expert but hey.” He lifted the paper with the final sketch. “This is awesome.”

I feel flatter even with an unusual warmth on my cheek.

“I’m afraid.” I let it out without a filter. “I know I can deal with something like this is just…” I see Roscoe sleeping peacefully. “I don't want to let down anyone, especially Lewis, not after…”

The imagene of Lewis holding me tight on those dark days helps to realize Max's eyes shift, it’s like looking at a calm sea.. 

“I just don’t want to mess up anything.” Max stretched his back giving me the papers. 

“Listen, if you ever need a hand, give me a call.” He stands and picks up his phone, I didn’t even realize someone is calling him. “Just a second.”

He walks to the other side of the room giving me time to calm down a little bit, when he comes back, apologizes but he has to go. I walk with him until the door to say goodbye, just when he walks away…I notice something different.

“Hey Max!” He turns around, raising his eyebrows. “Thanks…for everything, the talk, the packing, the vitamins.” 

Max smiles and takes a deep breath, speaking in a teaser tone. “Well, I scored some points for a small visit to the garage.” 

My answer is a small smile which makes him press his lips together while containing a smile. 

When he goes into the lift I walk back to the living room, shaking my head and putting the last papers in their respective box, but at the corner of one of the sketches Max was seeing there was a small note, along with his number.

>+1  ;)

[clandestinegardenias]

.

[floralstorms]

indulging in looking at so much more bird stuff and looking at flower photographs lately and like. This makes me so much happier why don’t I do this more often

[ranuunculus]

the last notes in I Can Hear the Rain… <- (full of emotion)

[icantalk710]

📱😪

[screampied]

𝜗𝜚 I CAN MAKE THAT P☆SSY RAIN OFTEN!

☆ sum. they're starving, but they aren't craving actual 'food'. they're craving what's right between your shaky pretty legs. toji, higuruma, choso, gojo, geto, sukuna.

warnings. fem! reader, cúnnilingus, face-riding / siting, eating out through panties, pússy so good he cries (choso), fīngering, unprotected, dirty talk, praise, very pússy drunk men, squīrting, hair pulling, pússy spanks, spīt, dumbification.

☆ HIGURUMA HIROMI.

you tell higuruma that’s he’s got such a rideable face, but he’s never really knew what you meant.

not until he’s buried between your thighs, having a pretty view of you caging him in with your jittery legs. “hey,” he purrs, his voice pouring with such rasp underneath it. a swollen thumb drags down near your sopping cunt and his droopy eyes meet yours. higuruma’s holding you upright whilst his free hand grabs onto your left thigh tightly. “ ‘s okay, lovey. i know you wanna ride my nose,” and his balmy breath grazes up against your slit that was just continuously weeping with saturated slick. you’re whimpering, hovering over his rosy-twitched lips before he kisses near your cracked entrance. “easy, i gotcha. jus’ sit on it, ‘s okay, you can do whatever you want to me, promise.”

and once you finally succumb to his warm filthy words—you plop yourself onto his mouth, instantly moaning at the bumpy bridge of his nose tickling against your clit. “fuck,” and you hear a throaty chuckle leave from his crooked lips. higuruma’s nose, once your pussy rubs up against the hook, you couldn’t help but start to jerk faster and faster. “hiromi, ‘m not suffocating you am i?”

“no, my love,” he whispers, flicking his flat tongue through your sensitive drooling folds. you tasted so sweet and it only left him craving for more, more of you. dark drowsy eyes stares into your eyes before his sloppy licks turn into risqué slurps. “but, i wouldn’t mind it actually. use my face darling, ‘m all yours tonight.”

higuruma’s got a cunning grin that stretches against his lips as your weight relaxes on him. you kiss your teeth, gradually rutting your trembling hips up against his salivating mouth and he groans. your clit rubs itself against his nose and his mouth, the rough rocky texture of the bridge nearly sends you over the edge.

“f- fuck, ‘romi,” you gasp, and your fragile limbs cause you to squat now. the air surrounding you suddenly feels thick and there’s a dry taste filling the inside of your mouth. as candied wanton mewls continue to pry away from your lips, you tug on his ruffled checkered tie that’s tucked underneath his button-down. his tongue that’s lapping against your honeyed flaps with the mixture of his nose sliding up and down your entrance. but you’re now stuck in nothing but a mere stupor. higuruma’s eyes never break contact and you hear the loud sloshes from his lips smack against your pussy from each succulent slurp. “ ‘m gonna cum, not gonna last hiromi.”

“aw, yeah?” he whispers, your own slick smearing against his pursed lips. your eyes roll back once the tip of his tongue thwacks and flicks against that spot, your tender g-spot. it feels gummy and spongy and he feels your quaking thighs come together, clenching a tight squeeze. “ooh, guess she is,” and a hand of his creeps toward the right curvature of your ass. you moan from his touch, weak limbs shivering from his contact. everything was building up at once—like a wave, the calm before the storm. it starts near the very pit of your stomach and it’s fluttering all around you as if butterflies resided in your insides. “there, there. don’t stop, ride my nose lovey. use me, ‘s okay.”

your face twists as he’s still got his tongue attached to your sopping cunt—you’re shaking, and you continue to grind your hips into his face.

higuruma holds you with two strong open palms, trying his best to ignore the growing tent in his business slacks. his hair, thanks to how you were mercilessly dragging his head back and forth against your slobbering pussy, it’s all unkempt and messy. strands of black hair twist and entangle between your fingers as you’re preparing for another teeth shattering orgasm. your ass teeters and twirls in crazed gyrations as the his hooked nose continue to abrade against your swollen folds. “hiromi—fuck, fuck,” you whimper, and the coil buried within you finally snaps. within seconds, you’re cumming hard—all on his tongue and the following noise that flutters past your lips was so pretty. higuruma’s hooded eyes gaze at you as he’s lapping you clean and he’s so in love. your finishing sounds sounding like a mere symphony to him. lewdly melodic.

“that’s it, lovey. oh that’s such a good messy girl, my messy baby,” he sighs, and you feel your tummy cave in at that exact moment. your drenched folds never felt more slick. he’s slurping you clean, proudly with the most tender grin stretching across his face. but that concise moment briefly gets cut short once higuruma groans—feeling the strain in his pants again, fighting the urge to stroke himself. but he can’t, this is about you. you still feel the knobby part of his nose scrape and drag against your pussy and he huskily chuckles. “ah, you’re just obsessed with my nose now, huh?”

“no i—”

“oh, don’t be embarrassed,” higuruma softly teases, his voice a bit gruff and raspy. his lips had a pretty sheeny coat of your own juices and you were still trembling once he gets up. higuruma helps you off of him and closes the gap between you both, leaning in for a kiss. it’s sweet, he moans into your mouth whilst he feels your eager hands tug on his tie. higuruma’s tongue matches your sync perfectly. both dancing muscles tangle together before he aligns himself between your legs, wrapping them around his slim waist.

“my, aren’t you a doll,” he speaks between sultry tender kisses, and his rich cologne scent almost snatches your breath away. from a mile away, you could smell it. higuruma licks the bottom of your chin—keeping his eyes firmly on you until he starts to unbuckle his belt with one hand. “but since you love my nose so much, i think you’ll like somethin’ bigger a lot better,” and you let off a gasp once you’re suddenly now flipped the mattress, and he gives your ass a playful spank. “now, be a good girl ‘n bend over for me.”

☆ SATORU GOJO.

gojo loves more than anything to just come home from dreadful hours of work, of battles—to you.

not only just to you, but the pretty thing that’s between your legs. he’s not one to waste time, and he always gets straight to the point—but in this case, straight to the pussy.

“let’s see how many fingers this time,” he coos, and you’re laid flat against your back, eyeing him. unapologetically, he’s been eating you out for hours like a starved man, drinking out each of your candied orgasms like it was nothing. gojo had a thing for your pleasure—it was far more better than his own. “one,” he whispers, slowly inserting a single long digit inside. you whimper at the immediate stretch. such thick lengthy fingers, they expanded wide throughout your walls and you shudder from his breath whistling against your folds. “twoooo,” he jibes, playfully dragging out his words. your legs were quickly melting like mush, nearly collapsing as he’s toying around the insides of your cunt. “god, she’s got so much ‘ta say today, huh?”

gojo grows quiet at the crying sloshes you make just from his twin digits jackhammering inside of you. in feral awe, he watches as you swallow up both of his long fingers with your greedy cunt, covering them from top to bottom with your slick.

every few seconds, there’s a wet sloppy ‘pop’ and ‘pshh’ that squeals out from your own entrance. “s-satoru,” you whimper and you let off an exaggerated gasp once he flicks his tongue against your throbbing clit. you’re soaked, and his chin was already raining with your juices—his favorite. as he’s got two fingers still buried inside of your gummy walls, he twists them around before he reaches there. your breath gets caught in your throat and you gasp again, letting off a sweet squealing mewl before yanking on his hair snowy white strands. “ngh, ‘toru!”

“ah,” he purrs, bringing a sloppy three second kiss toward your drooling cunt. it’s so pretty up close, he can see how you’re profusely pulsating from the stimulation and it makes a sly smile tweak against his lips. gojo’s digits resume to crimp around inside of your doughy walls before his plump fingertips tickle against your g-spot. oh, you feel static surge and pump right through your veins. the texture was spongey and squashy and he’s got a playful pout. “this is where you’re weak, right angel? mhh, such a sloppy ‘lil thing.”

you’re trembling from his staticky touch and his fingers plummeting in and out of your cunt. the sounds, it’s so messy . . it’s yourself, and you’re just a stammering mess, fumbling over your own pathetic broken sentences. “fuck, please ‘toru,” you whimper out in a sheepish tone. he goes back to running his tongue everywhere against your sopping wet cunt. to him, your folds tasted so sugary, and he’s always been known to have a little sweet tooth. gojo feels himself getting hard the more he plays with you and he lowly groans right against your pussy. the vibrations of his frustrated snarl makes you whine out in ecstasy before your eyes widen. “hnnnm, sato— fuck!”

pretty pristine lashes of his flutter shut before he gradually pries out his fingers. gojo’s so into it, he’s having an entire make out sesh with your pussy, pressing his plump vermillion-colored lips together and lapping up his own sauced saliva.

“atta girl. give it t’ me,” he grunts, and you watch with heavy eyelids just hanging low as his head starts to drag back and forth. he’s devouring your cunt, even going far as to getting nose deep just to steal a smell all for himself. the sweetest, his favorite place in the world would always have to be right between your thighs. gojo even reached down in his pants, past his cerulean blue boxers to touch himself. fuck, he was hard. and it was all because of you. he groans, giving his dick a few solid pumps whilst a callused thumb brushes against a running vein that pulses down his shaft. as his lengthy tongue trails even further, he starts to suck on your clit. he feels the pulse twitch in his mouth and he looks right up at you with the most smug pussy drunken grin. “heh, you’ve got a—”

and abruptly, you end up gushing right out just as he’s speaking. mid sentence too—you sprayed a nice amount of your release just below his chiseled chin and you let off a sweet harmonic screaming orgasm. ripples of pleasure coarse through your veins as you’re riding out your orgasm on his tongue, your body growing limp. every inch of your body though, you felt hot. your legs furiously shook and he’s still got his tongue attached to your cunt. “. . yooou little slut,” he quips with a eyebrow quirking up. gojo’s a bit taken aback but his pretty icy eyes find yours again and you spot his dimples poking near each side of his cheeks as he slyly simpers. “you just squirted on me huh. someone felt sloppy today, yeah?”

“i- i’m sorry,” you moan, still feeling the jarring after effects of your body. your thighs were glued together and you’re still panting—although gojo’s panting just as much as you if not more. despite how you were still aroused, you’ve never felt more embarrassed. thanks to your pussy, you’ve got his face drenched from the mouth down. you’re a mess, and he’s covered all in it. “i didn’t—”

“shhh,” he whispers, and you’re interrupted by a soft spank on your cunt. you whimper at the brief twinge, the unforgettable friction glissading down against your bare exposed entrance driving you more and more crazy. the air felt hot but your body felt even hotter. gojo gives your clit one final sloppy kiss before whispering against your slit. “ah, ah. don’t be sorry,” and with droopy hooded eyes, you watch as he prepares to insert not one, not two, but three fingers inside of your wet puffy cunt. “do it again.”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO.

toji never really believed in the saying, ‘you can’t have your cake and eat it too.’

of course, he knows the meaning of the actual common quote but in his filthy rotted brain, it means something else entirely whenever he’s buried between your thighs. toji fushiguro’s a greedy man, especially whenever it came to pussy. he won’t just eat you out, he’ll devour you, including your pretty perky ass.

two callused open palms spread the doughy globes of your ass wide open quickly. you’re whimpering, feeling his tepidly hot breath waft down your bare pulsating cunt before he spits right down the valley of your sopping wet folds.

“gotta get her nice ‘n wet, ain’t that right, baby?” he whispers, watching as his own saliva trickles down your twitching folds. you’re already moist, profusely so and he can see your pretty poor clit throbbing - aching for more. “oh, my,” he tsks, bringing his scarred lips right up to your slobbering entrance. “she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”

“hngh, toj—”

“baby, quiet. ‘m not talkin’ to you,” he shushes you, and you let off a whine once he gives your pussy a long thorough suck. you hear the echoing ‘pop’ smack from his lips once he pulls back, flicking the cold tip of his tongue against your pearly nub. fuck, once he started it was no prying him off. toji groans, feeling his rickety hips starting to drag themselves against the edge of the bed. his bulge continues to grow in his grey cottony sweats as his lips latch onto your sweet sweet pussy.

he blows against your folds, a thumb still guiding up and down your slit before he goes toward your neglected hole—you whimper once you feel a stringy glob of saliva dribble down until it reaches near your cunt. “fuck, fuuuck,” you hiss, your toes curling up almost right away. he was just so nasty, you could tell toji’s smelling your pussy right from behind you too. he was nose deep and the tip of his nose thrashes up against your clit constantly, making you feel even more sensitive. “ngh, don’t stop, ‘toj. pleasepleasefuck.”

“god, how many times do i have ‘ta tell ya?” the dark haired man gruffs, and you feel a surging wave of tingles ripple through your thighs once he gently swats a hand against your pussy.

it’s a loud ‘smack’ that bounces off the thin walls as you bite down on your bottom lip. your slickness even spurts against his palm and it’s so cute. as he’s steadily munching against your throbbing heat, he slurps you clean again and again. “our conversation’s over,” and his voice gets deeper the faster he sucks. “she’s talkin’ ‘ta me now, not you. don’t be rude,” and toji’s hooded verdant eyes rove towards your drooling cunt as he speaks. it was over the second he’s softly inserting a fat finger inside, feeling your clingy walls accept it right away. “mhm, she’s always got so much to say. pussy’s talkative just like you, princess.”

you moan, feeling his tongue drag up and down against your clit. your mouth can’t help but drop in awe at how thick his finger was. too thick, it’s so good. it’s practically just as big as his cock, and just a single lengthy digit of his was splitting you wide open. you’re squelching and toji purposely grows quiet just to hear it - to hear the ‘words’ of your pussy, which was just the wet sloshing sounds you continue to make as he played with you.

“yeah, i fuckin’ agree,” he hums, a low cackle leaving from his lips as he’s starting to piston his finger in and out, slurping all of your sappy juices. you’re whimpering, and he’s talking over you. your limbs felt weak and you could feel your arch starting to weaken. “she’s such a baby, my baby though,” and once he tongue rummages deeper inside of you, it taps near your clit. it’s a mean tap, scratching such a forbidden itch in your brain and you almost grow stupid. toji feels you about to collapse forward due to your weak frail legs and he chuckles against your pussy. “heh, drama queen.”

you whimper as he stretches your ass more with one hand—he’s leaving all kinds of cobwebs of saliva that glues against both temples of your ass, racing down your thighs. “mmph,” he feels you claw the back of head, shoving him closer towards your pussy. a sly grin spreads against his lips and he slides his finger out, breaking away to taste it. “y’er gettin’ fuckin’ handsy, baby. careful now,” and his tongue slithers back towards your puckering hole. his same thumb pokes against it before he’s just slurping you—loud slippery sounds departing from his lips, devouring your cunt as if he was a starved, starved man.

“toj—fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you blurt out, your grip against his hair loosening. your cheek presses against the pillow as he lies his tongue flat, making sure his tongue wanders everywhere. he lolls it around to where he’s creating all kinds of letters and shapes just from his silvery tongue.

your toes continue to curl as your mouth’s just dangling open, feeling his scar repeatedly scrape up against your twitching clit. unapologetically. he spits on your entrance just to lap it right up, feeling the tint in his pants rise. he’s so hard, so fucking hard and your cute pulsing only made it worse. “shit, shit toji please,” your sweet babbles ring against his ears as he feels the shimmy of your hips. you could never stay still, and that was one of the many things he loved about you.

“yeah, cum on my face. make a fuckin’ mess, make me proud baby,” a low voice grumbles from behind, and his tongue’s still delving in and out of your sappy folds. you’re so soaked, his lips were so loud with how they suction against your slick pussy and you were just dumb. dumbfounded, his tongue had you utterly stupid and you only wanted more. but a hard hand swats against your sensitive cunt, snapping you back to reality. “c’mon, ‘m thirsty. give me my meal.”

gasping for air, you let off a tiny shriek once you finally let go, feeling such intense pressure lift up from the center of your abdomen. you’re frazzled, dewy eyes staring into the satiny cushioned pillow that’s shoved against your face as you burst. “fuck—fuck,” you whine, and it feels like a geyser just erupted. except, the geyser was right between your legs. you’re squirting, and it shoots out so fast, trickling down toji’s chin and even paints his dark stubble a sheeny glistening color. as he’s slowly gliding his tongue against your folds one more time, he blinks thrice whilst a smug grin stretches against his lip.

“well how about that,” toji snickers, and he gives your cunt one more suck, smearing your slick all over his chin. he didn’t care how much of a mess you made - it was his mess too. you can almost feel his lewd gaze bore into your ass before he peels a thumb against your clit. “looks like she’s still got it,” and you moan, feeling him give your pussy a ‘praising’ good job pat. he hums, feeling you throb on his palm. as he’s catching his breath just like you, toji hums, flipping you over. “my girl can’t help but be a fuckin’ super soaker, cute. .”

☆ CHOSO KAMO.

choso was always exhausted whenever he came home, constant battles on a daily would wear anyone out. but it was all worth it because in the end, he came home to you. his pretty girl—but today, today was different.

“i need you,” he murmurs out of breath, and you’re taken by surprise as you lazily flop back against the couch with your legs slightly spread open. the last thing you’d expect was to see choso on his knees for you. he suppresses a whimper that’s so close to flying from his lips before he nips a few wet kisses near your thighs. “ ‘m so starved, baby. been too long since i—” and he cuts off. pretty mahogany eyes of his suddenly widen once you pull down your shorts with one hand, revealing your panties. purple, the lacy fabric decorates the valley cracks of your thighs and shields your most sensitive bits. choso can’t help but pout once you softly grab onto the crown of his head, rummaging your fingers through his loose ravened tresses and tickling his scalp. with a needy pout, he looks at you whilst he’s leaning into your touch. “may i?”

“yeah, but keep the panties on though ‘cho,” you reply in a cheeky tone, watching the frustrated pout on his face grow. but he doesn’t complain, and instead, he inches his face closer and closer and closer, all until he’s eating you out through your panties. “f- fuck.” you’d swallow as a sharp gasp wrenches out of your full heaving lungs.

once he started—there was no stopping.

choso’s whines were muffled as his knees were dug, buried into the furry carpet ground. his pretty lashes flap as his tongue delicately laps around your sopping cunt—oh, you’re such a tease. despite how your underwear was in the way of the part he really wanted to eat, he still tasted how soaked you were. not only that, but he could smell it too. “god, ‘s unfair,” he grunts, swirling his tongue around every part he could get to. your breath hitches and your fingers were still intertwined between his thin strands. “mmph,” and he can’t help but smell your panties. he’s missed you so much. as choso’s soft kitten licks turn into slurps within a soak of just a few seconds few seconds—he glances up at you with a cute frown. panting, he murmurs. “can i- can i touch myself?”

“no, choso,” you tease him some more,” and you spread your legs just a bit wider. with the wide eyed stare he’s giving you and the way his mouth was cutely just dangling open, you’d have thought he was about to drool all over you. so pretty, he almost loses composure once you finally pull a string of your panties toward the side of your thigh. “not yet.”

“so mean,” he cutely grumps, his plump lips curling into another pout again as he’s positioned right between your plush thighs. choso leans into your tender touch though, and he goes back to licking your pussy. he moans, trying to savor your taste as much as he could. choso’s tense arms remain idle—although he’s just itching to touch himself and it doesn’t take long before his chin starts to glisten with slick - your slick. choso couldn’t help himself though, so he starts to find another way to feel.

his rickety hips start to jerk up against the edge of the couch and he’s ruthlessly grinding into the furniture. he’s feral like a animal and heat—all for you - just for you. “mmph, fuck,” he whines, feeling such hot friction bristle against your body and it ricochets onto his. choso already had a boner by just looking at you—but now, he was definitely pent up. the tent in his sweats only grows as he continues to rummage his warm tongue through the corners and crevices of your cunt. gasping, you start to slowly drag his head further against you. “baby, ‘m so hard. so hard jus for you.”

choso was such a messy eater though—he was inexperienced in some areas, sure. but when it came to eating you out, he never failed to please you. he couldn’t get enough of you, especially when you tasted like that. his head can’t help but move around and crazily shift everywhere. he’s devouring your cunt whilst his hips continue to thrust against the edge of the couch over and over and over again.

the snapping creaks get more rowdier before you dig your fingers through his scalp once more. you always tried your best to shower him with praises whenever he was stuffed between your thighs—eating out your precious pussy as if it was the last meal to exist on earth. “ ‘s okay, cho, right there baby. right there, fuck.”

your sweet praises made his ears perk up and twitch and it’s so cute to see. choso’s so into it that he whines right against your cunt, hot breath colliding against your slick flaps. you whine, continuing to guide his face by dragging his head around and against your sloppy entrance. “mmph,” his voice is still muffled as his tongue occasionally rubs against your clit. choso sucks against it hard just to hear you whimper out. his eyes were closed the entire time—but after a while, you hear a bit of a subtle sniffle. you peer down, and it’s choso. he’s sniffling, quite literally getting lost in your pussy. both chubby temples of his face flush as his tongue’s wanders in every neglected corner of your gripping walls. you pause, about to pry his head away and ask what’s wrong before he clings onto your hips, shaking his head firmly. “n- no, don’t move away please. ‘m not done.”

and choso was sniffling solely because of your cunt. it was that good. . he couldn’t comprehend how something from a mere human such as yourself could taste this divine. he’s melting into putty in real time the more he’s slurping your honeyed juices—spitting it all over your clit before cleaning it right back up like a good boy. “fuck,” he whimpers, still thrusting his keen hips into the corner of the couch. he’s so loud, even louder than you and it’s adorable. “baby, i- i love you, i love you s’much,” he starts to babble, and his slurps become more wet and noisy. the lewd squelches from your own pussy bounces and reverbs off the walls and off your ears. your carnal moans only make him more hard as he’s feeling his boner drag itself further against the silky fabric of his grey sweats. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again, n- not again, ugh.”

he freezes like a deer in headlights the moment the center of his boxers fills itself with damp grey splotches—he felt it, and he moans whilst he’s still got a mouth full of your pussy. “aw man,” he pouts, his chest heaving as he pries his lips away from your throbbing cunt. teary eyed and a cute determined pout on his lips, choso kisses your clit one more time before sighing. “baby, can we retry? i- i’ll do better this time, promise.”

☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

sukuna’s a filthy pussy eater. . he’s fucking nasty.

he’s a demon and he has no shame. eating you out was a mere pastime for him. whenever he was bored, all he’d really have to do was summon you to his royal chambers to ‘entertain him’ in his own words.

of course, whenever this happens, it always escalates to you laid flat on his king sized bed with your legs widely sprawled—having the sukuna ryomen nose deep inside of your cunt. one of sukuna’s favorite things to do was to eat you out directly after he came inside you.

“brat, stay still,” he murmurs to you, but due to the carnally low pitch in his voice, it sounded like a playful warning. your bottom lip gets caught in between your teeth as you gnaw on it, feeling your stomach churn with such excited apprehension. sukuna’s tall frame towers over you and you gulp at the demon right before your very eyes. you take a moment to glance down at his cock, spotting his pink swollen tip that’s profusely all runny and flaccid. you milked him so much earlier, and he groans at the feeling of still being sensitive. back to his own eyes, they gloss over near your stretched out legs and peek right between your thighs. such goopy ribbons of cum ooze out of your pussy and you spot him licking his lips, a single fang cutely poking out near the corner of his mouth. “hn,” he grouses, and with two hands, he scoots your waist up closer to his hungry sheeny lips.

“suku— fuck,” you squeal, and it was so quick. one second he was telling you to stay still and the next, he’s eating his own cum out of you. filthy, the perfect word to describe sukuna. for once, he’s only ever quiet and shuts up when it comes to your sweet pussy - funny. rolling out his tongue flat against your shimmery entrance, his pink thin brows then compress together in obscene concentration. your back rests flat against one of his many cushioned pillows and your jaw dangles open. “fuck, fuck,” you repeat in broken sweet whimpers, now staring to feel his forked tongue roam all throughout your sensitive walls.

sukuna’s ear twitches once he hears a sudden slosh. as if a sudden instinct triggered him, his cold red eyes flicker toward your left thigh. a creamy droplet of cum starts to drip down the side of your leg. “what a sloppy girl you are,” he huffs, and his tongue licks it right up. he’s not even fazed by the bittersweet taste of himself that’s coating all on his tongue. your stomach caves in and out as he continues to feast—every few seconds, the keen sharp edges of his fangs would nip against your clit. your body would arch forward and you’d give him that cute twisting facial expression every time. “just look at this mess,” he speaks through clenched teeth and an even more clenched jaw.

the curse’s stern crimson eyes rove gawk toward your soppy clit as he pries his lips away—his lips were a pearly pink, lathered with your slick and excess amounts of his own forbidden taste. “ah, don’t even think about closin’ these beauties yet,” and you shiver once he presses a kiss near the neglected crevice of your thigh. your head tosses back as you’re just panting heavily, your chest tightening up with each drawn breath. “hm, ‘s still pouring out of you. how uncouth,” and you whimper once he spits right on your cunt, lapping it right up before kissing your weeping folds once more. “taught you all these manners ‘n you’re still just my sloppy girl. ‘s that right, princess?”

“sukuna, fuuuck,” you babble out, and you gasp once he slowly inserts a thick finger inside, hooking the fat digit all throughout your saturated walls.

“little girl, that’s not the answer to my question,” he tsks, and you release another moan at the feeling of his long finger scissoring its way inside of you, swirling all around deeply. sukuna adds even more pressure by sucking down on your achy clit, dampening his own sculptured chin with your slit soaking against the lower part of his jaw.

you are indeed a mess, stammering out the same loop of pathetic cries as he slurps up his own mess out of you. sukuna snickers, bringing a palm toward your pussy just to watch you wince in pleasure. the sting, your legs were on the verge of snapping shut and he knew that. “tell me,” he utters hoarsely, gradually pulling out his finger and licks it slowly from top to bottom. staring you dead in the eyes, he kisses your folds once more. “who’s pussy is this?”

“yours,” you hiss through gritted teeth at the spank. your sobbing pussy’s met with another rude spank and you gasp, feeling your perky nipples poke further against the fabric of your tank top. “s- sukuna.”

with another spank, spurts of your own dewy juices coat the wide palm of his hand and his crimson-velvet eyes narrow at you. “that’s right, pet. all mine,” and for one last time, he brings a sloppy four second kiss towards your runny cunt. sukuna’s lewd slurps echo through his chambers indefinitely. “you know it ‘n she knows it too.”

☆ GETO SUGURU.

suguru geto eats you out like it’s his favorite hobby, call him a professional swimmer because he loves drowning in your sweet sweet cunt. well, minus the swimming part though.

“sit,” he murmurs, and you swallow thickly as you’re hovering right over his face - his pretty emotionless face. geto’s eyes bore into you and he gives your ass a playful pinch. with ravened dark strands still running down both of his eyes, he licks against your thigh. “sit on my face, pretty girl. ‘m fuckin’ hungry,” and you moan once his teeth tug against the hem of your panties. “there we go,” he coaxes—watching as you leisurely start to lower yourself down onto his face. as he speaks, his voice lowers a single octave and it makes you pulse right between your legs - how embarrassing. your weight slowly but surely makes its way toward his mouth that’s seeping with eager drool from the sides before you’re now sitting on his face. then, you’re met with the most smug expression from geto whilst he opens his mouth, parting his thin slick-spit lips. “lay it on me, yeah. good girl. good fuckin’ girl.”

“fuh— fuuuck,” a whine spews from your lips once his tongue naturally lies itself flat against your entrance. his tongue was frigidly cold and you feel it, the brief knobby texture of his tongue makes your toes curl up. geto’s lashes flap close as he’s slurping up all of you, taking long dramatic gulps whilst a hand cups the fat plush skin of your ass. your hips stutter at first — you’re shy a bit at how you’re just sitting on his face, but he then grabs you by the hips, slamming you further down against his tongue. “suguru,” you whine, chewing the inside of your cheek. his eyes were closed and he’s just merrily munching against your cunt as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. spoiler alert, he didn’t. geto’s head though was maddened. it jerks from left to right, and he’s already growing feral within seconds.

“heyy girl,” he whispers in a raspy voice, feeling your nervous hips swerve in cute crazed arcs. for the life of you—you just couldn’t stay still and he found that so adorable. your eyes were looking anywhere but him and his long fat tongue slowly licks around your tender clitoral hood. geto slides two thick fingers down your pussy, feeling you tense up and he hums. “look at me, eyes on me, sweetheart,” he reminds you, and you watch as his lips twist up. even between your legs—he’s so pretty, and stringy glimmering strands of his own saliva starts to dribble down his sharp chin. he was a mess right underneath you and your clammy hands find their way in his hair, tangling through his matted dark locks. “want you to look at me while i make love to my other favorite girl,” he whispers in a rough voice, and you moan once his tongue hastily flicks against your pulsating nub more.

as you’re shaking all from his tongue and his sly wry words, your eyes lock onto geto’s. “fuck, suguru,” you moan, your fingers getting lost in his shaggy jet-black strands. he’s so pretty, he’s got the most unbothered deadpan plastered on his face while he’s eating you out, dragging his long tongue through your treacly sensitive regions. oh, he just couldn’t get enough of you. geto loves to spit all on your pussy just to have it fall back into his mouth, smearing his crooked pink lips all over your puffy soddened folds as if it was his own personal lip gloss. “y- you’re so nasty, sugu.”

“yeah? praise me more sweetheart,” he utters in a husky voice, and you knew he was joking but you throbbed either way. your hips were so unsteady the more you sat on his face. fuck, he’s staring dead at you too, raising a dark brow before laughing against your cunt. cool breath tickles near your pulsating entrance before he blows against your folds. “aw, quiet now huh. ‘s my tongue really too much? maybe i should stop.”

“n- no, please,” you whine, and your hands rigorously pull onto his strands. the dark haired man looks at you with a sleazy grin, such viscous gooey strands of your own slick dripping down his chin. geto was already pussy drunk, you could tell. he loved hearing those sweet whimpers of yours squawk out the back of your throat despite how you’re trying oh so hard to shut yourself up.

geto loved whenever you got loud for him—he didn’t care who heard. but on the other hand though, his tongue was just plain evil, he made sure to spell out all types of letters and shapes on your pussy. he even spelled his name. your pussy was so loud too, the sloshes were so sopping wet that you couldn’t even believe that was coming right out of you. with a quivering bottom lip, you grab him by the hair, pulling his head up a bit so he could look you straight in the eye again. “don’t stop, suguru. ngh, please. need you to—”

“need? oh, girl,” he sassily snickered, and you moan once his palm firmly swats against your swollen cunt. you were wet, shamelessly dripping down and with his hand now smacking against your folds, you were even more soaked. geto’s low voice and the way it pitches makes your thighs nearly give up, on the verge of collapsing. “dumb girl, stop thinkin’ with your cunt when you speak to me. you don’t need shit,” and he playfully nibbles on your clit. “right, pretty girl?”

geto calling you a dumb girl and a pretty girl in the same sentence made your brain ache—

your breath grows significantly shallow as you stare at him and he’s got nothing but a feral hungry glint in his eyes. “i- i want you make me cum, sugu,” you correct yourself, and your cunt’s just desperately throbbing. every nerve stored inside of your sopping clit, you felt it all. just yearning for you to let go—you were right there, you were so close to your release that you could almost taste it. so bittersweet, the pointed tips of your ears grew hot as you started to grind your sloppy hips against his face again. “please, please. make me cum, suguru. want your tongue, pretty please.”

“that’s my girl,” he coos, a thumb gliding down your runny slit. his cold breath wafts against your pussy and you shiver before his nibbles against your sweet cute nub turn into greedy elongated sucks. geto’s head quickly sashays side to side again in a frantic manner before he grunts. “mhm, c’mon then. give it to me, princess. make a mess so i can clean it right up, atta girl.”

a whirling pool of heat continues to stir up inside of you and you that’s when you feel it. the immense intensity of raunchy pressure that’s shocking every part of your body. your knees buckle and you’re already weak but his tongue makes you ten times weaker. you’re defeated, an easy ko—knock-out, all from a simple tongue with the addition of filthy dirty words. the moment you cum, your mind shoots blanks.

“oh, sugu—fuck,” you then squeak once it all pours out of you. it’s as if you’ve been waiting for eons, and you suddenly feel weightless. you’re twitching and even after your orgasm, you still feel the sloppy laps of his tongue—strings of cobwebby spit glossing his lips before he finally departs. “ngh, suguru.” you’d babble as you’re still weakly riding geto’s tongue. the overstim scratches such a carnal itch in your brain and it makes your eyes roll all the way back.

geto’s catching his breath, running his tongue over his dampened lips before he watches you slump back against the cushioned mattress all pretty and breathless. so cute, the way your chest heaves in and out and your thighs still shook with intense elation. “aw, tired already?” and he crawls up beside you, sneaking a kiss near your neck. “but oh, we’re just gettin’ started, princess. that was just a test run, silly.”

[mercuriallily]

Why are people so mean about me hating rain lmao