#small basic quiz

[quibbs126]

Okay, I’m drawing more AU today, and I came up with this design for Elita, I think I might actually stick with it. Especially since the point was that I need to have a design and stick with it

I mean some things might be a bit tweaked, but generally I think I’ll go with this look

Do you guys think it looks good? I just want to know

[jesusbutbetterrr]

at this point they need to take the numbers away from me, cuz it is not working out

[vantetaes]

SPOILED BRAT 🫧🥂

SUGARDADDY!CONNIE! X SPOILED!BLACKFEM!READER

SUMMARY!!! connie tells yn no

WARNINGS!!! overstimulation, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, implied ‘age gap’, mentions of drug dealing, sex 18+!!

you’d been together with connie for a 6 years at this point. the two do you did everything together. he always made sure you were straight no matter what.

you’re his woman. his pride and joy. his headache.

just today: he’d taken you to brunch to help recover for your god awful hangover acquired by spending the night before taking shots of don julio with your friends. he took you to the hair store, buying you new bundles for the season change, then payed for the install. taking you to lunch after your hair was done. deciding you were getting tired of walking, you requested one last lap around the mall, which ultimately ended with connie wanting to see your nails a different color and a new set of lashes.

you’ve been gifted birkins, 24 karat bracelets, trips out of country just because, and even receiving a maybach for getting through your first year of college. everything you ever wanted, he made sure you got. no if, ands, or buts.

bouncing on the tippy toes of your pretty pink chanel slippers. the fresh white pedicure compliments the white lettering on your shoes. your eyes glaze over the stores extensive amount of new products. you wonder in awe as connie walked behind you, carrying your bags while his face is buried in his phone.

“oo! they have the two piece i’ve been wanting!” only hearing the paddling of your shoes, connie barely has time to look up before you and a PINK store associate were talking about the newly released thong set.

“you want it?” he asks simply, hand caressing the small of your exposed back.

“no i already have too much!” you shake your head, your fresh set of lashes batting against your face as you eyed the clothing. connie’s hand flags down the worker from earlier.

“can we get all if the color for this set, medium.” he places a few hundreds in the woman’s hands before she scurries off to fulfill the purchase.

“thank you, baby.” you giggle , giving him a small kiss on the cheek. the strawberry scented lipgloss leaves a transparent pink path on his face. which stays there. before you could bring up the fact that you were eyeing one more thing in the store, connie’s ringtone went off. he peers down before gazing back at you. placing a quick kiss to your lips, he slides away.

“give me one second, baby.”

he basically stormed out of the store, face twisted up.

from your view through the glass it looked like someone fucked something up. connie’s tattooed had runs across his head, sighing into the phone before shaking his head a final time, hanging up.

once he returned, the worker rushes a few bags over and the left over money from the exchange.

“keep it. ♡︎, let’s go.” he takes the bags carefully before heading for the exit. his tone was firm but still gentle enough that you didn’t feel offended.

-

finally back home, washing every piece of clothing you got today, you noticed your fiance was a little quieter than usual.

changing into something a little more comfortable, you walk out into the large penthouse living room.

“what’s wrong?” you quiz. his head shoots up from its resting position on his hand to shake his head.

“nothing princess. just some stuff i have to go handle in a few, you good?” he asked concerned.

“yeah you’ve just been like.. preoccupied away from me all day today! i just want some attention. can i come with?” the long red fur lined robe moved swiftly against your exposed brown skin as you did your little begging dance.

“whatchu’ mean i’ve been ignoring you? and not this time, princess. it’s something real important and i can’t risk some shit happening to you. we not finna do this.”

your motion stops as you stare a little dumbfounded. no? no?? jokingly sticking your acrylic inside your ear, wiggling it, pulling your finger back out to check. he got used to the dramatics years ago.

“what do you mean not this time, connie?” you only used his government when you were mad at him.

connie leans back in the leather chair, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watches you from across the room. he’s always been the one to say yes, to pull strings, to make things happen. you’ve always reveled in that—his power, his ability to hand you everything you could ever want, no questions asked. but this time, the look on his face is different.

“not. this. time.♡︎.” he says, his tone firm, his jaw tight.

“you’re joking?” you say, voice sharp, tinged with indignation. a small flabbergasted smile making its way into your face slowly.

he shakes his head, slow and deliberate.

“i’m serious, ♡︎. i can’t do this. not this time.”

for a moment, you’re stunned, the words hanging in the air between you like a challenge. then, like a flame catching kindling, the fury ignites.

“can’t ?” you spit, laughing abruptly, your voice rising. “or won’t?”

he doesn’t flinch. that only makes it worse.

“you’ll do everything else-” you continue, pacing now, your anger spilling out unchecked.

“-you’ll risk everything for everyone else, but the one time i ask for something that matters to me, suddenly it’s a problem?”

“♡︎, it’s not like that.” his voice is calm, measured, and it infuriates you more.

“then what is it like, connie? hm? you basically ignore me all day and now you wanna leave me here?” you shout, spinning to face him.

“because to me, it looks like you’re picking and choosing when i matter.”

he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. you know he hates this side of you, the part that lashes out when things don’t go your way, but right now, you don’t care.

“im saying no because it’s not safe. you don’t see the bigger picture.” he says, his voice hardening slightly.

“don’t give me that fucking bullshit!” you scoff, crossing your arms.

“you think i don’t know what you’re wrapped up in? you think i don’t know how you make all this happen?” you gesture around, the designer bags, the jewelry, the life he’s built for you.

his silence speaks volumes, and it only fuels your rage.

“yn. im being polite with you. please don’t start this shit. and watch your fucking mouth, mama. im being calm.” his eyes growing more irritated and narrow. laughing in his face, you turn on your heels, walking back to the bedroom. disappearing down the lengthy hallway. you could hear the slow pads of connie’s feet following after you.

“fine! fuck you! didn’t wanna fucking go anyways.” you huff under your breath, slamming the tall room door behind you.

the man immediately flings the door back open, pointing to the bed.

“sit down. im not fucking asking you.” his jaw clenched tight.

finding yourself crawling onto the white king sized bed, sitting on your knees. the lacey black lingerie set underneath the red fur peeking through.

“what in the hell is wrong with you today, princess?” his voice is growing agitated and upset.

avoiding his gaze, you can only play with the hem of your clothing, ignoring him fully.

“yea we not about to do this shit.”

before you had a chance to react, he was on the bed, pushing your body backwards, and hovering above you.

“why you actin like this, baby, hm?” you couldn’t help but to melt looking at his eyes. everything about how close he is to you is just turning you on. ignoring him again, he’s starting to get fed up.

“im gonna ask you one more time and after, i don’t wanna hear about it.” his right hand held both your hands in front of you and his left was on the outside of your thigh. you could feel his warmth.

“just want attention, daddy.” you mumble, face whipping to the side. his hand shoots up to fix your chin back his direction.

“uhn uhn, speak up.” gently shaking your head side to side, he’s looking at you gently still.

“i want attention. why are you being such a fucking bitch con?”

immediately regretting your choice of words, the man rears up off your body, fixing his shirt and pants. you rush to sit upright, closing the robe, watching as the man put his shoes on.

“baby, you know i didn’t me-“ you start. he just laughs, walking through the open door. chasing behind him, anxiety creeping up your neck.

“baby, im sorry.” your voice barely above a whisper, watching as he grabs his cars keys, then he’s out the door.

-

“just calm down, im sure he’s fine.” mikasa chats on the other end of the phone call. you’re using your other phone to repeatedly dial connie’s number, all chances failing.

“what if he’s not though? he wont even answer!” the salivas getting caught in your throat to think he’s upset with you but who else to blame?

“drink a glass of wine and relax! i just talked to him, he’s fine.” you hear onyankopon on the other side of the line.

“what? how? what did he say?” you couldn’t help but to shove all the questions down his throat.

“chill chill. he’s fine, he said he’s heading back home now. go relax, ♡︎.” the man said on the other end of the line.

“okay thank you, i’ll see you guys later.” the phone beeps off.

making your way to the kitchen, you grab a wine glass. hand skimming over the wall collection you and connie built over the years, you pull out a red wine from italy you got last summer. pouring a generous amount, you decide to just bring the bottle to the living room. waiting for the man to walk through your doors.

cuddled underneath a large white blanket, halfway through a movie, you make it more than halfway through the bottle, unfortunately still slightly sober from anxiety.

until the sound of keys being turned broke you from staring off into space.

he slides in, immediately kicking his shoes off and placing them on the rack. he removes his jacket, hand wiping off some lint from the inside off his shirt. your body jerks into a standing position, blanket laying at your feet.

“baby-“ you start.

“room. now.” he doesn’t even look up at you, he just begins to walk down the hallway. shuffling confused and worried behind him, he turns on a single lamp on his side of the bed.

“lay down.”

crossing your arms, standing firmly.

“not until you tell me where you went and why i couldn’t go!” your lips pull into a line and your eyebrows furrowed.

“lay the hell down. if i have to say it again i swear to god you’ll hate me afterwards.”

still standing firm, you’re unmoved and unwilling. fed up, he walks over to you, his height towers you, throwing you over his shoulder. he tosses you onto the bed, yanking off your robe in the process.

“you want attention? strip.” he begins “and if i have to repeat myself this time, ♡︎, you won’t leave this bed tomorrow.” his jaw gripped tight, words spoken through gritted teeth, he was 100% serious.

without hesitation, you pull the set off with ease. he smiles before digging in his nightstand. pulling out two pairs of fuzzy pink handcuffs and your sleep mask. plopping everything down beside you, you feel his strong hands pick up up from under your arms, pressing your back against the cold bedframe. he reaches behind him, grabbing the supplies. cuffing both your arms to the posts, he gives you a small kiss before covering your eyes.

“connie why are you doing this?” voice unable to hold water, you were a mix of turned on and scared. you knew how he could treat you when he was this angry.

his hand goes back into the nightstand, all you can hear is him place it down beside you. the rattling from his belt being undone causes a reflex in your lower region, clamping your legs closed to gain some kind of traction. you can hear the laugh come from your fiance.

“don’t worry baby, you’re about to get all the attention you wanted.” the sound of his belt buckle hitting the ground followed by the sound of him removing his pants.

before you could try to listen for anything else, all you feel is his lips pressed against your pussy and his hands keeping your knees spread. his tongue licks long strides up and down, from your entrance to the throbbing, swollen bud. his lips pucker around your clit, giving it a few gentle tugs and licks. his hands move close to your core, squeezing every inch of your thighs, humming into your warmth.

“oh- shit con.” moaning, you start to feel a little vibration start to happen. “what’s that-“

he put the vibrator flush against your clit, using his tongue to pump slowly in and out of your clenching hole. flailing against the restraints, you can’t help but to cry out for him.

“please- please daddy, fuck me. im sorry i swear, please.” you feel him pinch the inside of your thigh, causing you to flinch a little.

“don’t tell me what the fuck to do. im gone take you how i want you.” he goes back to abusing your pussy, face covered in your slick and his spit. he’s always been obsessed with eating you. removing one of his hands from your leg, he begins to use his long slender fingers inside while he took turns sucking your clit and then replacing it with the vibrator.

you can’t see anything but little stars floating across the darkness of your eye covering. the intense feeling in your abdomen building up. his fingers slide in and out agonizingly slow, tongue writing love spells on your swollen bud.

“shit connie im gonna- oh fuck!” your body begins to shake as you release. that doesn’t stop him. he continues, his mouth attached to you, unable to pull away.

“that’s my girl. give me some more of that shit, come on baby. this what you wanted right?” his mouth forms an o-shape, licking at the swollen bud while humming. you try to force your knees together, only for him to pin you down into a middle spilt. every inch of you was being sucked, licked, and bitten.

he pulls the vibrator back out, hooking his fingers into you, teasing your g-spot while his other hand switched modes on the wand.

“pretty ass pussy baby. she so wet for me, didn’ even have to do much. yeah, i feel it. make a mess, cum all over my fingers baby.”

the mix of the vibrations, connie’s fingers slowly fucking your hole, and the way he talked to you, you came undone. again. body shriveling up in overstimulation, you can only feel him turn the vibrations off, hoping to be done with this whole thing. you’re already fucked out and a mess.

“fuck baby, youre so filthy for me. but i don’t think im satisfied, ma.” you shake your head a little, knowing that you fucked up. repositioning a pillow under your butt, the man reattaches his lips, going slower than he ever had. mouth frozen in an o shape, you couldn’t help but to cry out.

“it’s too much daddy, be nice!” you cry, eyes brimming with tears, feeling as his warm, wet tongue slowly circles your swollen clit.

“mm- mm.” he offers in a hum, extending his arms up to play with your nipples, tugging gently at them. it seemed like his tongue never stopped moving, sometimes slipping into your clenching hole to collect more of your wetness. the burn in your stomach was intense. you could barely breathe, only pushing out large exhales of air, moans strangled in there alone the string of ‘please’s and ‘fuck’s.

he was eating you like it was a competition and he wanted that fucking gold.

“again, again, connie oh- fuuck.” you’re now full blown crying. the orgasm shaking your body beyond control. the man gently pulls away, softly running his hands around your body. his hands remove your blindfold, wiping some of the fallen tears. the readjustment to light wasn’t too bad but once you saw his face, he just gives you a look.

“im- fine.” you choke out, tears still rolling. he laughs a little, wiping your face before standing and using his should to wipe his.

“im giving you two minutes.”

you swore those two minutes went by quicker than a hellcat in atlanta traffic.

he was now pinning your knees to your ears, dropping his throbbing cock inside you slowly, bottoming out. you let you a cry, in pure bliss. he pulls out quickly, slamming back into you. the sound of sex filled the room.

“pussy so fucking good. taking that shit so good.” he throws his head back, mercilessly pounding into you. he pulls out of you slowly, before pushing back into you. your hands grip at the chains of the handcuffs, bracing yourself for the man’s abuse on your hole. the veins of his cock rubbing the inside of your gummy walls. without warning , you’re squirting all over his dick, making a mess of the bed in the process.

“daddy! i’m sorry!”

“it’s too late for that shit now. let me take these off you.” he reaches up, undoing the cuffs swiftly before tossing them to the side. thinking youre free, you try to roll off the bed, only to be caught by him.

he tosses you over onto all fours, grabbing your arms from your side so your face down into the mattress.

“you know i love you right?” he asks, gripping both your wrists firmly behind your back.

“yes baby i know.” you say, head tilted to the side.

“good cause im about to treat you like i dont.”

slamming into you, he’s relentless. the tip of his cock abusing your poor cervix, digging completely into you. large hands grab hold of your breast, chest stuck in a heavy breathing pattern.

pounding into you, not letting up, you know he’s pissed. trying your hardest to pull away to give yourself so slack, he yanks you back into his length by the wrist.

“nah whatchu’ running for? this what you wanted right? you wanted me to fuck you like this, huh? you gone take this dick.”

he could feel you clenching around him, the slick dripping from your abused hole to to your ass. he could feel how close you were.

“ooo shit, let that shit go baby. imma fucking cum.”

your hands dig into his arms instinctively, eyes rolled to the back of your head, saliva spilling from the sides of your mouth in euphoria. it was so much yet you never wanted it to end. babbling nonsense and hitting connie with the palms of your hand, you release over him, again.

he delivers a few more thrusts, violating your cunt, sopping up every second of being inside you until he’s filling you up.

pulling away from his position, your body lay unmoving.

“was that enough attention for you?” climbing to your side, his large arms pulls you on-top of him. placing gentle kisses to your head, he rubs his hand along your back, giving you a small massage.

“im sorry.”

“shh, it’s all fine now baby.”

connie cleaned the both of you up, tossed the sheets in the wash, replaced them with new sheets he bought while out, and even prepared a small dinner. sitting on the couch, both heads in a silk bonnet, watching love island.

© vantetaes. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. ageless/blank blogs dni.

inspo pics

[wendichester]

｡𖦹°‧ across the room²,

summary. you've seen sam around. he's seen you too. all you're both waiting for is the perfect opportunity to go from strangers to something more.

pairing. stanford!sam winchester x reader genre. more fluffy fluffing fluff

wordcount. 1398

ᯓ★ read part 1

You blame the weather. Rainy Saturdays are basically a divine invitation to cancel plans and stay in stretchy pants. Add a looming midterm and a text from Sam Winchester that reads “Wanna study together? I promise not to distract you. Much.” and, well... resistance is futile.

So here you are, curled up on the floor of his dorm room, legs tangled in a beanbag that’s seen better days, psych textbook open but very much unread. Sam sits beside you, back propped against the bed, one leg stretched out, the other bent so his notebook balances perfectly on his knee like this is his natural habitat.

It shouldn’t be this cozy. Dorm rooms are small, usually smell faintly of ramen and gym socks, and his desk is cluttered with loose papers and a comically large water bottle. And yet—somehow—it feels like home.

The two of you have been meeting up like this for a week now. Library tables. Coffee shop corners. That one empty stairwell between classes.

And okay, maybe you both do more laughing than actual studying. Maybe your pens keep “accidentally” brushing. Maybe you’ve started recognizing his footsteps before he even enters a room.

But none of that changes the fact that there’s a midterm coming.

“I swear this chapter is cursed,” you mutter, letting your head fall dramatically back against the beanbag. “I’ve read this paragraph four times and retained nothing.”

Sam chuckles beside you. “Want me to quiz you?”

“No,” you groan. “I want you to read it to me in your deep brooding voice while I nap and absorb the knowledge through osmosis.”

“That’s not how osmosis works,” he teases, elbow gently nudging yours.

You hum. “Then what good is science?”

He snorts. You feel it vibrate through the beanbag before you realize how close you’ve drifted.

And then his voice drops, low and dramatic. “Chapter twelve: Cognitive behavioral therapy is a form of psychotherapy aimed at modifying dysfunctional emotions, behaviors, and thoughts…”

You break. Full-on giggle. “Stop, I didn’t actually mean it!”

“Too late,” he says, continuing with a straight face. “Therapists work with patients to identify patterns and—”

You throw a pillow at him. He laughs and ducks, and somewhere in the movement, you shift, and suddenly your head lands right in his lap.

Silence.

It’s not awkward. Not quite. Just… very, very still.

You glance up at him, half-expecting him to freak out or gently nudge you off. But Sam’s looking down at you like you’re the rarest species of bird and he doesn’t want to startle you.

“Sorry,” you murmur, starting to move. “Didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t,” he says quickly. “I mean… you can stay. If you want.”

You blink. “You sure?”

His fingers fidget near your shoulder. Not touching—just close. “Yeah. Feels nice.”

You settle back in place, cheeks warm. Your heart is beating too loud. Or maybe that’s his. You’re not even sure whose pulse you’re hearing anymore.

The rain keeps falling outside. Steady. Gentle.

And then—his fingers find yours. Slowly, like he’s giving you every chance to pull away. You don’t. You lace them together, feel his warmth seep into your skin like sunlight through the clouds.

You don’t mean to fall asleep. You really don’t. But his hand in yours, his other hand absently tracing circles along your arm, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it’s all just too much.

Too safe. Too soft. Too perfect.

By the time he glances down again, you’re out cold.

Sam blinks, staring at you like you just transformed into some mythological creature. His free hand hovers, then gently brushes a lock of hair off your forehead.

“You’re killing me,” he whispers.

But he doesn’t move. Not even when his leg falls asleep. Not even when the textbook slides off his lap and lands with a dull thud.

Because for the first time in months—hell, maybe years—Sam Winchester feels calm.

Like maybe he can have this. A future. Be normal. Someone to fall asleep on his lap during study sessions. Someone who makes dorm rooms feel like places worth coming back to.

Eventually, he leans back, head against the wall, eyes closing too. And for the rest of the rainy afternoon, the world pauses.

When you wake up, you’re warm.

Not just “under a blanket” warm—more like wrapped in another person’s heartbeat warm.

The kind of warmth that makes you want to stay very, very still. Because if you move, if you breathe wrong, the moment might slip away like a dream you almost remember.

Sam.

You don’t open your eyes right away—you don’t need to. His scent is already there, filling your lungs: clean skin, coffee, and something that might be his shampoo or just the quiet smell of comfort.

You’re not on the beanbag anymore. At some point, he must’ve moved the both of you up onto his twin bed, awkwardly narrow and way too short for his stupidly long limbs. You’re tucked into his side now, one leg slung over his, your face against his chest. His arm is around your back, hand splayed like he’s holding you in place even in sleep.

It’s… intimate. Stupidly intimate.

And yet, somehow, it doesn’t feel weird. Doesn’t feel too much. It feels like something you’ve both been quietly leaning toward for weeks—drifting into each other orbit like two magnets too stubborn to admit it.

You feel his breathing change—slow and deep shifting into soft, fluttering inhales.

He’s waking up.

Your eyes open just in time to see his lashes flutter, his brow crease like he’s not quite sure where he is—until he looks down and sees you.

And smiles.

“Hey,” he whispers, voice all husky and cracked at the edges.

Your heart trips over itself. “Hey.”

Silence hangs between you, thick with what now? and don’t move too fast.

You’re both blinking at each other, like you’re not sure if the other one’s real.

“Sorry,” you murmur, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his shirt. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

He gives a breathy laugh. “You kidding? Best part of my week.”

You glance up at him through sleep-heavy lashes. “You say that to all your study buddies?”

“I only have one.” His fingers brush your back. “And she drools on my hoodie, so she’s special.”

Your face scrunches in horror. “Did I actually—”

“No,” he grins. “But you believed me for a second, and that’s what counts.”

You swat at him, weak and half-laughing. He catches your wrist in one big, warm hand. Doesn’t let go.

And now you’re staring at each other. Close. So close. His thumb brushes gently over the side of your wrist, slow, thoughtful.

It’s quiet again. But not awkward. More like the breath-before-a-kiss kind of quiet. And this time… you don’t look away.

“You’re not gonna kiss me right now, are you?” you whisper.

His eyes flick to your mouth. Just once.

“I want to,” he says softly, like a confession he’s been carrying way too long. “But I don’t wanna screw this up.”

You can’t help the way your chest tightens. “Sam… it’s already happening.”

That gets a blink. “What is?”

“This.” You squeeze his hand. “You and me. It’s already happening. Whether we admit it or not.”

His breath catches. Like you just cracked open something big.

And then—finally, finally—he leans in.

It’s slow. No sudden moves. Just inches closing like pages of a favorite book. His nose brushes yours first, and then—soft as a promise—his lips touch yours.

And oh.

It’s warm. It’s sweet. It tastes like leftover sleep and caffeine and something new.

His hand cups your cheek like he’s afraid you’ll float away. Yours fumbles into his hair, tugging gently as the kiss deepens—just barely. Just enough.

When he pulls back, it’s not far. He keeps his forehead pressed to yours, smiling like a boy who just got everything he never dared ask for.

“Still not gonna focus in psych class,” You mumble.

He snorts. “Guess I’ll just have to tutor you.”

“Oh no! You’re gonna make me learn.” You groan, and he dramatically flops onto his back and drags you with him.

“Only I get to kiss you when I get the flashcards right.”

Your grin is crooked. “Deal.”

And just like that— Somewhere between a rainstorm and a midterm and the softest kiss of your life— Sam Winchester became your favorite kind of distraction.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[str4wb3rrysw3etheart]

HII!!

SOOO.. i decided to start writing!! For the eltingville club! (They would hate me but shh..) I ran out of fics in a day.. so I'm doing God's work and supplying 🫡 (i actually have experience writing fics but got logged out of that accouht... and it was a different Fandom so good luck)

Anyway enough of my background stuff, here's fem! dating headcannons for all of the eltingville boys, plus a poly one 👅

Cw! SFW BUT SUGGESTIVE STUFF SAID BEYOND THIS POINT! Like lowkey could ne nsfw to someone but not to me.. Bill is still kinda a misogynist, but nicer. Pete is a little freak. I have a small preference for writing bill ... so sorry if his is longer 💔 pete has little siblings , poly is shorter bc I ran out of ideas 💔

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.

Bill

♡He .. to put it nicely sucks at most things. He's never done this before! Give him a break.. he gifts you small things from time to time that corelate to your interests, saying something like "here women god .."

♡He hates the club seeing you. He'll brag about you sure, but he doesn't want their filthy eyes to see you. He knows where they'd be looking

♡He isn't the best at affection so he'll normally just keep his arm around you, or hand on your thigh. He doesn't know what women like be nice to him

♡Will rant for HOURS about his interests, if you share some, he'll then quiz you about the lore , calling you fake if you mess up. He's a "Name five characters" type of man..

♡He starts to shower and use chapstick more, brushes his hair, the whole nine yards. But only if he knows you're coming to see him. He doesn't find showering necessary

♡Tries to be a manly macho man (he's failing). He wants you to rely on him because "that's a man's job" , even if you end up having him rely on you..

♡He dreams about you. In starteck outfits, in starwars, saving you from the big bad guy, he can't stop! Sometimes, if he's feeling nice, he'll look away from any boob's that the guys end up showing on movies.

♡Has a small staring problem.. he can't help it! Tits that are all his? And aren't imaginary? Jackpot! He's a pervert I'm sorry!

Pete

♡He is definitely always horny.. groping is his love language.

♡Shows you SO many horror movies, and purposely tries to scare you so he can seem 'manly' and cuddle you better

♡He LOVES watching you squirm, knowing you're so vurnable and grossed out/uncomfortable, it does something, but he will stop whatever movie he's watching if it gets too far

♡Will struggle with romance, like he doesn't wanna be seen doing basic normie shit. He wants any gifts or romantic gestures to be special... which normally ends up with a concerning amount of fake? Blood covering the both of you.

♡Loves to watch you cook, and I mean LOVES it. He loves watching you in an apron or even just clothes doing things like a house wife, he loves it.

♡Good with some kids.. (ex his little siblings) but leave him alone with them and you're ASKING for trauma for those poor kids.

♡If you're mentally ill? Great! He loves it, He's into some weird things.. but if you genuinely need comfort he'll try

♡Halloween is sacred to him and you WILL do matching costumes or he will ignore you for the whole night

Josh

♡One of the softer ones out of the boys

♡Everything and Everyone else is so mean amd rough , that he just wants both of you to be sweet and cuddle, he wants you to love him just as much as he loves you

♡He'll banter with you, but will never try to go too far, insecure that you'll leave him.

♡He only yells if he's very mad, he sucks at apologizing though.. so good luck on that part

♡He is so used to everyone being against him, that if you are just on his side, he's head over heels

♡He can't fight for the life of him, the other boys being the only thing that's as weak as him. But he will certainly threaten anyone who's mean to you

♡Gets embarrassed very easily, and tries to best to hide it, point it out and he gets even worse.. he was probably staring at your tits or something

♡He actively tries to have better hygiene for you, and his mom LOVES you for it. She thinks your a saint sent to help her son, and so you are very loved in that house.

Jerry

♡He is definitely the nicest out of all the boys, being gentle, almost treating you like a figure, something to be protected, but one that actually is a person!

♡Definitely rants about future plans in D&D to you, however if you play, he tries not to spoil it, push him and he'll crack though.

♡Loves for you to help him act out the scenes he plans , so he knows if they flow right

♡He loves to get you little gifts, and hide them around where you'll find them.

♡He may be sweeter but he's still like the other boys , has a tendency to whine when under pressure, and a HORRIBLE decision maker, just make them for him atp

♡He tries to be respectful about you and your body, not wanting to upset you, this is the only girl who has ever looked at him, he's so glad for this

♡Cosplays couples with you, like link and Zelda, peach and Mario, ect ect

♡Blushes easily, but LOVES to see you blush, just watching your cheeks tint from something he did? Exhilarating

Poly

♡I imagine, they all date you, they are NOT dating eachother, that's gay. (I'm bi dw)

♡Giving attention is like rolling a dice, get a low roll and they all decide that now NEED attention or they will DIE.

♡They all love to make you voice whatever girl they end up saving in d&d

♡They all will whine like toddlers if you can't make it to a meeting

♡If you all are watching a movie, you will be in the middle, no ifs, ands, or buts, about it.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.

.

.

.

And suddenly my ideas ran away

[study-diaries]

How To Self Study

This is coming from a girl who spent her fresher and sophomore year studying at home and yes, I got good grades. So, here are some tips that I followed for studying by myself without depending on any teachers.

So, let's get into it!

Gather and organise material

This is important, why? What are you going to study if you have absolutely no idea what your syllabus and study material is? By materials I mean:

Textbooks (If you have any)

Practice papers

Previous year papers

Extra reading materials/ Reference books

If you don't have any textbooks. Go through the topics that you have and gather resources from different sources.

Tip: Have at least 1 extra reading material for every subject/paper. It helps you understand some topics that are explained in a complex manner in textbooks which is almost all the time.

Don't depend on your teacher

Teachers are good. Seriously. But their attention will always be shifty. They have a lot of students to teach, from many other classes so if you depend only on your teachers for clarifying your doubts or being at the back of you to study then newsflash, its going to be hard. Rather, be your own teacher. Don't go "I'll ask this to her/him tomorrow after class" because that will be your answer every time you have even a small question which can easily be solved by a simple search. You're saving your time and theirs.

Tip: If you're someone like me who gets distracted when you take up your phone even for a second then write down all your questions in a paper and search them later after your study session.

Make notes

I usually say this because notes help you understand topics. There are many methods of taking notes. I usually don't follow any structure for note taking, I just read and write keywords under the topic name, linking a few things here and there.

Tip: Notes need not be aesthetic. Seriously. You can be as messy as you can.

Watch videos related to concepts

This helps and I know most already do this.

Tip: When you finish watching a topic, close the video and write down what you understood and then play the video again, fill in the gaps that you missed and watch it again.

Study in chunks

I always believe that whatever you do, you should do in chunks. Instead of doing one chapter, divide it. Into small bits. I'll tell you, you'll see the difference. I don't usually recommend Pomodoro since it doesn't work for me. I don't keep a time limit or a set number of breaks. I finish a chunk and if I am tired, I take a break otherwise i continue.

Tip: Self quiz yourself after each chunk and then take a break. Then after you finish the chunks for the whole chapter with the self quizzing then self quiz yourself randomly for every chunk. Here's an additional tip. Take 20 second breaks.

Period of deep work

This is not a new concept, i didn't realize i did this at first. Basically, when you start your work. You do nothing but work. Like nothing else. No phones. No snacking. No unwanted thoughts. Just nothing but what you have to do. That is to study.

Tip: It is difficult to implement this right away especially if you have a habit of it getting distracted easily so i just suggest => Start smaller. One topic with full concentration. It would usually take you 20 - 30 mins to get immersed in the work. 40 mins if it's something you don't like but once you get the momentum? An unbelievable achievement really. And then, change your environment.

Quality > Quantity && Consistency> Cramming

One hour of productive studying is better than nine hours of useless studying. I feel like it's better to study 20 mins everyday rather than the whole night before an exam. It just causes stress.

Tip: Start early. Your teacher is on chapter 5? And you still don't get chapter 1, it's fine. Start learning. Seriously, it's okay to be behind. You just have to stick. Do it everyday and you'll see results that is better than those who are just keeping up with the teacher.

Deadlines Are Mandatory

Have deadlines. There are a number of ways to do this. I'm a person who is really lazy and a weird soul who would never complete their to-do list for the day if they write it down. It would always be left unfinished. So i just keep a mental time limit and the thing i have to get done.

Tip: Overestimate your deadline. Like, let's say i have to complete around 15 lessons that week. I keep my deadline to around 25-30 and i eventually complete 15. It's about adapting to what works for you. Just change according to what works for you.

Practice questions / Previous Year Papers

I can never emphasize this enough. The best way to prepare for any exam is just do practice questions or previous year questions. You will learn a lot of things. The topics that are important or repeated. The topics that are never asked.

Tip: Grade yourself on each paper. Circle the questions in your textbook while you are studying and practicing. Then when you have to actually study then you can actually revise the topics a bit more thoroughly. If you want to know more, click here.

It's okay to be behind in class

During my first term in senior year, the whole class was around 5 chapters ahead for every test and exam while me? If they were on chapter 12, i was in chapter 4 or 5 but i understood the concepts and took my sweet time with each chapter. Because the more time you take for a chapter, the better it stays in your memory.

Tip: Here is where active recall comes handy. When you revise one chapter, take a 2 day break and study another subject and then go back to the chapter and answer the practice questions. If you're able to do them, great! If not, revise more and then look at it after 3-4 days. Repeat until you have no mistakes in your answers. This helps in long term retaining.

Make It Interesting

How do you study boring subjects? You adapt. Mind maps don't work for me. Neither does flash cards. So, i found something that did. Storytelling. Take your most boring subject, turn it into a story. Make it bearable.

Tip: Tie it somethings that you like. For example, business studies was the most boring one for me so obviously, every topic was a story for me. HR Theories and Processes? ==> An office romance story. Management Principles? ==> A fantasy story where a group goes on a quest. Make It interesting. Make it gripping. And let me tell you, this actually works because our minds grasp stories better than just normal theory jargon.

Difficult Topics Are Only Difficult Because You Think They Are

This was something that i learnt the harder way. Everything looked difficult at the beginning. Everything. But the most difficult paper was maths. Because i had no teacher. Literally. I was learning from YouTube, searching different sites for tips and tricks. I thought it was too difficult and then i was like "i have to do it anyway no matter how much i brood" so i started from scratch like 3 months before my exams.

Tip: A mind set change is everything. If you think it is easy. The topic will be more bearable. If you think it's tough, it's going to be more tough. If you want some more tips for complex topics, click here.

Hope this helps !!! :)

[cvnntagious]

𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞

☆ fuckboy!matt sturniolo blurb for anon...

Not that you cared, but Matt had been M.I.A for over a week now. He hadn't been in class, hadn't texted you, and you hadn't seen him in his usual hangout spots around campus. Not that you'd bothered to check.

Well, okay, you shouldn't have checked — But you did. Not because you cared. I mean, he didn't care, so why would you? You'd been looking for him because, for some reason, your professor had decided to hand over his work to you. It didn't seem like he knew where Matt had gone either.

You didn't really understand what this had to do with you. The professor had just told you to give it to Matt whenever you got the chance. What, did he think you and Matt were something? Because you're not. That's not what Matt wanted, and neither did you.

But as your grades began to slip, it was clear Matt was on your mind. For no reason, really. Like, you didn't like him or anything. Seriously, you didn't like him. Usually, with the help of Matt, you would've been able to de-stress by now. Even touching yourself was no good. His help had been keeping you steady for the semester, and without it, you were nothing academically. At least that's what you told yourself.

Today 10:22 PM : ' Hey sorry. Been a minute. '

That's what you saw pop up on your phone as you tried to focus on studying for the upcoming quiz. You knew who it was before you even read the contact at the top of the notification — that unreadable way of texting, topped with an annoying amount of periods, just like always. He said it'd been a minute, but it had only seemed like seconds since you last talked at that moment. You were already annoyed.

Texting back seemed like no use, brushing it off with a sigh that exuded not only irritation, but a hint of relief as well. At least now you knew he hadn't gotten himself into some shit. Not that getting into shit was much like him, it was more his brother's thing. But still, he tended to stick his nose where it didn't belong when it came to any problems Chris got into.

Today 10:25 PM : ' Come slide. Dorm's P17. '

You tried to ignore it, but the numbers caught your attention. Could he really want you this bad? Usually he'd come to your dorm, or on some rare occasions you'd meet him at Chris' frat. Never once had he bothered to give you his dorm number. This felt new, possibly refreshing. He'd always told you where he stayed wasn't necessary information— basically the nice way of saying he didn't take you seriously, nor trust you enough.

Though tempting, your better judgement told you not to give in so easily. As you held down the power button and slid the icon to power off before flipping your phone face down, you felt a certain sense of empowerment, proud of yourself for deciding it wasn't worth it. So why did you find yourself waiting for him to answer the door, fidgeting nervously as you looked at the short brown carpet of the dormitory hallway?

"Didn't even get a warning," You heard his voice as the door opened in front of you, causing you to look up at him.

With an embarrassed chuckle, you lifted your hand to show him the black screen of your phone. "It died," You lied, eyelashes fluttering as your eyes met his blue ones.

You watched his small smile as his tongue ran over his white teeth to hide it, invisalign making them chunky and, in some strange way, admirable. Then, he stepped aside, giving you room to walk into his doorway. "S'late, I know, but I just- like I said, its been a while," Matt began explaining as you walked into his dorm, leaning on the doorframe as his head followed you.

You turned to look at him after having taken in his dorm, rather unimpressed by the lack of personality. "Yeah, about that, actually— Where y'been?" You asked curiously, as he shut and locked the door behind him.

Matt only shrugged, suppressing a smirk as he took a step forward to let his hands travel down your waist. "Lot'a stuff," He replied simply, head cocking slightly to one side. Of course he wasn't going to tell you - he never told you anything. "S'a lot to handle, y'know," He then added, eyes darkening as they held contact with yours.

Your brows furrowed at his words, a bit confused. If he didn't want to tell you why he was gone straight up, you'd prefer if he didn't start hinting at stuff. "What is?" You breathed out, hands moving to rest on his forearms as you unknowingly caught his bait.

"Not being able to see you every day; To touch you every day." He said that as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, his head dipping to place open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck. "To call you mine," He then whispered. You knew it were dumb to think he meant that, but for some reason, those four words made you want to give yourself to him completely.

Matt smiled for the first time since you'd walked in when you pulled back to admire his face, letting out a small hum when you leaned back into him to press your lips against his. Just like that, he walked you backwards towards his bed, hands slipping under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your stomach. The coldness of his silver rings caused you to hiss into the kiss, too distracted by the sensation to notice him turning you so that he was now with his back to his bed.

As he sat down on his bed, he pulled you down to straddle him, hands holding your waist. You looked down at his glossy blue eyes as your hands reached up to knock his hat off of his head, fingers threading through his brunette curls. "What d'you want, Matt?" You finally asked, one hand coming down to allow your finger to caress the underside of his chin as he looked up at you.

His hands traveled up your figure, lifting your shirt as he did so. He allowed his hands to rest on your boobs, kneeding them as he chuckled ever so quietly. "To not have to do the work this time," He answered in a teasing tone, eyes flickering down to look at where his hands worked.

Though reluctant, you lifted yourself off of his lap to hoover over it. Using one hand to stabilize yourself on his shoulder, your free hand made its way down to his belt buckle as he watched your every move intently, "Don't look so happy," You mused when your eyes had glanced up to see the excitement in his.

"You know I love this shit," He quipped as you pulled his belt through the loops, lifting himself just enough for you to pull his pants down to his thighs. You only had so long to admire all you could see through his boxers before you felt Matt tugging on your pants, pleading without words for you to take them off.

Again, you lifted yourself off of him, this time allowing him to unbutton your pants and shimmy them down your legs until they were discarded somewhere beside his bed. As he fiddled with your pants, your hand began palming him through his boxers, length already riled up from not being touched much longer than he was used to. He groaned as his eyes remained locked on yours, a wet patch turning a spot of his boxers a darker shade of gray.

After a bit of teasing, you decided it was time to finally get your eyes on the prize—his prize. Pulling it out of his boxers, you ran your hand along his shaft to feel it rock hard already. "So big," You muttered, eyes glued to it.

Matt couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at your words, expression smug as it could be. "This's new news?" He asked playfully, a stark contrast to his usual cold behaviors. It was like he really came out of his shell when he was aroused, and you were ready to put him right back in it.

With a squeeze of his dick that caused him to grunt, you pulled your panties to the side and lined him up with your entrance. Matt looked enthralled as he watched you do your work like this were routine, hands leaving your hips to rest behind him, leaning back to tilt his head back when you sunk down onto him without warning.

His hair was messy, and he could feel he was ready to sweat with your gummy walls around him. Lips pursing together, he hummed as you began to slowly grind into him, letting you do the work, just like he said he wanted.

It wasn't long before you began bouncing on him, hands on his shoulders for stability as you let out choked moans, as if his cock were suffocating you. The quick pace had your thighs burning, struggling to keep up with it, and yet, Matt simply watched in enjoyment. It wasn't often he allowed himself to freely make noise, but you could tell he was really enjoying this, with the way he had let out more groans and pants than usual.

Seemingly out of nowhere, his hands dartted out to grip the flesh of your hips as you continued your motions. You could've swore you heard a whimper when his head dropped forward to lean on the front of your shoulder. "Fu–ck this," He drawled out to you, hips begining to meet yours as he chase his high.

This simple, not so innocent gesture only served to fuel you, completely forgetting about the burning sensation. Your bounces got bigger, lifting yourself all the way to his tip before dropping back onto him with shreik-like moans. Matt was loving this, pants and groans now following each motion on his painfully ready cock.

"K- keep goin' f'me, baby, m'gettin close," He rasped, forcing himself to lift his head from your shoulder so he could look in your eyes while he came.

You nodded, bouncing mixing with grinding as you tried to tell him you were close too. It was too late. You let out a loud moan as you snapped on top of him, Matt following suit at the feeling of your sticky liquid releasing all over his dick. Your movements slowed to ride out your guys' orgasms before eventually coming to a halt, both of you panting with each other.

"Le's, uh— We'll do that more often, yeah?"

○

"come on over, baby, can you slide for me? yeah / you know how i love it when you ride on me." -chase atlantic

w/c : 1.8k a/n : if you've sent in any anons, i promise i'm getting to them. it's taking me a while cs i take forever to write and now i'm super busy so please bare w me, these anons have been building up for months now...

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[f1angelz]

Hey there , saw your requests open soo

Carlos x fem reader

The reader is pretty closed off, calm or unemotional person, works in academia. Somehow her and Carlos are dating and it hasn't been that long. Carlos wants to know more of her and like form an emotional bond but the reader is pretty nonchalant. But he notices that she's much more reactive when they're having sex or getting yk. And he uses that to his advantage to get her to say I love you back (she loves him but never says that)

You can take your time. No worries (•‿•)

𝒄𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒆? — carlos sainz x f!reader

summary: everyone’s shocked how y/n is carlos sainz’s girlfriend. her personality didn’t really show it— calm and nonchalant, never really the type to open up even towards carlos. will he be able to change that?

content warnings: smut (18+) mdni, cunnilingus, bathroom sex (but there’s no penetration so idk if that’s still considered), not proofread again 😭 please excuse errors you might encounter.

this fic contains super basic spanish words!

── .✦

“No, are you serious?”

“Miss Y/L/N? Dating THE Carlos Sainz?”

“I know, why hasn’t she told us? If I were her, I’d be bragging about it everyday.”

“Maybe that’s why she had someone substitute for her Friday class, she was at the race last week.”

Said the students who gossiped over their TA, Y/N.

Recently, a picture of Carlos and Y/N in the Ferrari garage was released all over social media. It went viral, the post reaching almost a million likes.

Y/N obviously wasn’t the type to post content of her boyfriend. She was rather reserved, her social medias were private and little to no posts— she didn’t even have a TikTok account.

Even at the start of their relationship, Y/N didn’t know Carlos was an F1 driver. She only found out when he invited her to a race.

The sound of Y/N’s heels clicking against the marble tiles echoed throughout the hallway, making her way towards the lecture hall. She pushed the laminated wood door open and the students immediately fell silent, watching her as she made her way towards the desk.

“Mr. Sanders won’t be able to make it today, so he won’t be able to deliver a lecture.” Y/N said while she brought out her laptop and placed it on the desk. After the students heard the news, they whispered a small ‘yes’.

“However, he has instructed me to create a quiz on last week’s lesson.”

The students groaned.

Y/N opened her laptop, “The quiz can now be accessed, you have 1 hour to answer. Goodluck.”

The students got to work and Y/N as well, answering several emails and creating lesson plans for the next semester.

Work never really seemed to end for her, she was always glued to her laptop— and when Carlos wanted to spend time with her, it would take a long persuading to do so.

1 hour quickly passed by and Y/N stood up, “Please submit your quizzes. Late submissions 2 minutes after will incur deductions. Once you have finished, you may leave the lecture hall.”

Some students who were already finished left as instructed while others were still fixing their things.

Just as Y/N was about to fix her things too, her phone vibrated and a notification appeared.

Carlos: Mi preciosa, what time do you get off work?

She opened her phone and replied.

Y/N: Now, actually. Why? My 11 to 3 pm class got cancelled.

Carlos: I was wondering if we could grab lunch? I’ll fetch you from work.

“Miss Y/L/N?” A voice interrupted, Y/N looked up from her phone and saw a group of students surrounding her.

“We’d like to ask what’s the passing score? One of them asked.

“Passing is 25.”

All of them let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Miss. See you next week!” They replied and slowly walked away “We hope to see you in the race next week.” One joked, causing their elbow to be nudged.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed upon hearing the statement, causing her to stand up. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, well you’re all over social media right now, Miss. We know you’re dating Carlos Sainz.”

“Yeah, why haven’t you said anything? It’s something to brag about.”

Y/N inhaled deeply, “Yes, I’m dating Carlos Sainz. Why does that matter? It isn’t my responsibility to announce my relationship status. Now, please leave the lecture hall.”

The students were stunned and they apologized. They left the hall, leaving her all alone.

Y/N huffed and grabbed her things, closed the lights and left the hall.

She grabbed her phone out of her pocket and messaged Carlos, telling him that she was already off work and already walking towards the exit.

Carlos was already parked outside of the University. Among all the other cars parked there, Y/N knew which one was her boyfriend’s car. She walked towards his car and knocked on the passenger’s door, Carlos opened it and greeted her with a warm smile.

Y/N smiled back and sat in the passenger’s seat, closing the door.

“How was work, amor?” Carlos asked as he started leaving the parking lot.

“It’s okay, I guess.”

“I guess?” He questioned.

“My students found out that we’re dating.” Y/N sighed and fixed her hair on the mirror.

“How’d they find out?”

“I don’t know, I told them off and I left the lecture hall immediately.”

Carlos glanced over to her, “Amor, what about it if they found out we’re dating? You’re smart, beautiful, and definitely more than what I deserve. What’s the worry?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged off Carlos’ question.

Their lunch ended on a good note and went home immediately after, at Y/N’s apartment.

Y/N tapped her keycard against the door lock, pushing it open. She took off her heels and placed it on the shoe rack behind the door, Carlos’ actions following hers. The cold beige colored marble tiles made contact with feet, her thin socks barely giving her any warmth.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Y/N announced, making her way towards the bedroom and Carlos hummed in response.

He always wondered why she wasn’t as open towards him. Sure, she’s shared some things about her past, and her life in general, but she never really shared anything regarding her emotions.

Although she’s somewhat affectionate, it’s still a shock to her how she really just couldn’t say the three words that meant the most— I love you.

The sound of metal clinking on the ceramic jewelry plate resonated throughout the bedroom, Y/N taking off her accessories before she showered.

“You’re so beautiful, you know?” Carlos leaned against the bathroom’s doorway, watching Y/N as she unbuttoned her blue silk button down top. She looked towards his direction, flashing him a small smile.

As she was about to unbutton the last one, Carlos wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, closing the gap between them. His hands wandered, while he placed soft kisses on Y/N’s neck.

“Carlos..” Her words fell, lost in his kisses. “— what are you doing..” She let out a soft moan.

“Te gusta, Mi amor?” Carlos said in between kisses, slowing making them aggressive.

“Si…” Was all Y/N managed to let out.

It was like Carlos turned on a switch in her brain, he never saw her like this. Submissive, melting even at the slightest touch.

Out of desperation, Y/N guided his hand towards her right breast, pushing her bra. Carlos played with her nipple, tugging and pulling on it. Y/N looked at herself in the mirror in front of her, desperate and needy for her lover’s touch.

She finally removed her top, only leaving her in her bra and panties, her slacks gone even before Carlos entered.

“Hermosa.” Carlos said under his breath, looking at Y/N’s figure on the mirror. She turned around and faced him, pulling him in for a deep, passionate kiss. “May I take this off?” Carlos asked in between kisses and tugged on her bra strap, she hummed in response. With one swift movement, her bra fell loose, letting it drop on the floor.

Carlos pulled away and unbuttoned his linen polo, tossing it somewhere. Y/N couldn’t believe what was in front of her— it was her first time seeing Carlos topless. She placed a hand on his chest and he watched, her hand slowly going down towards his crotch.

Before she could unbuckle his belt, Carlos inched towards her, causing her to lean against the sink.

“Sit on the counter for me, yeah?” And she obliged, her feet hanging off the counter.

Y/N’s hands wandered along his chest and arms, desperate for his next move. Carlos brought his hand towards her left breast, kneading it as his mouth latched onto her right nipple. She felt herself getting wet, her core beginning to feel a familiar tingle.

Carlos pulled away for a moment, “Is this okay?” She nodded, her free hand making its way towards her core, ready to touch herself. But Carlos was quick to stop her, “Ah ah, no. Let me.”

“Por favor, Carlos.” Y/N begged, growing impatient.

Carlos laughed, “Since when were you so impatient, amor?” He took off her panties and tossed them aside, revealing her wet core.

Y/N spread her pussy lips apart, her clit exposed and covered with her wetness. Carlos went on his knees and placed kisses on her inner thigh, inching closer towards her pussy. Y/N grabbed his hair, desperately wanting to be touched.

He placed his thumb on the entrance of her pussy, spreading her wetness around. Y/N’s breath hitched, “Fuck, Carlos.” He licked her clit gently, his thumb still toying with her entrance.

“You love this, no?” Carlos taunted, his licks now turned into sucking which made her crazier.

“So— so much, f-fuck! More!” Y/N moaned out, her grip on Carlos’ dark brown locks tightening.

Carlos picked up the pace, her sounds of pleasure growing louder and louder each time his tongue grazed over her clit.

Y/N brought her hand towards her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple to stimulate herself.

Carlos couldn’t believe the sight before him. Her chest heaving up and down, breaths shaky from the work his tongue was doing on her pussy.

He felt that Y/N was cumming soon, her wetness growing even more. “Are you close, amor?” Y/N nodded like her life depended on it, “Si, amor— fuck! I’m so close!” She struggled to say, her orgasm nearing.

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes, please— please! I want to cum!”

“Tell me that you love me, and I’ll let you cum.” Carlos stopped sucking on her pussy and rubbed her clit with his thumb instead, in a painfully slow motion.

“W-what?” She breathed out, unsure of what he said.

“Tell me you love me.” Carlos stood up and pulled her closer, his middle and ring finger rubbing her clit as he picked up the pace.

Y/N jaw remained open, unable to comprehend what Carlos said.

“Cat got your tongue, amor?” He smirked and rubbed even faster, the sound of her wetness spreading around her skin.

“A-ah! I love you— fuck! I love you, C-carlos!” She screamed as her orgasm came over her, her legs tightened on his hips. Carlos groaned, giving her wet pussy a slap before slightly pulling away.

Y/N processed what happened, she actually said I love you.

How did that happen?

Still recovering from her orgasm, she was panting heavily. Carlos took a good look at the sight in front of him, satisfied with what he did.

“If it takes an orgasm for you to say those words,” Carlos panted, running his hand through his hair. “Then I’d give you an orgasm everyday.”

Y/N let out a laugh, “I never really said I love you because I thought it was too early.”

Or maybe because she wasn’t used to it.

“Amor, I’ve always wanted to hear those words come out of your mouth ever since we’ve started dating.” Carlos cupped her cheek, looking into her eyes. “Por favor, mi amor. Please say I love you more often.”

“But that means I wouldn’t be able to get orgasms anymore.” She joked, Carlos laughed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you cum anytime you want.” He placed a kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, Carlos.”

“I love you too, mi preciosa.”

── .✦

a/n: this was a experience to write! i haven’t written smut in a while 😭

[boypied]

WHAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE SCARY MOVIE?

pairings: drew starkey x ghostface!male reader

summary: drew starkey is lying down on his bed, shirtless when he gets a call from an unknown number that turns out to be ghostface. After the conversation ends, the ghostface bursts through his bedroom in an attempt to kill him, but the only one that gets penetrated is ghostface's hole.

requested by: anonymous.

warnings: SMUT, anal sex, top!drew, bottom!reader, knife play, oral sex (r!giving).

Drew runs his hand down across his rippling abs, feeling each dip and curve that his fingers fall into. He was lying in his bed, bored out of his mind having nothing to do until one idea popped into his head; masterbation! His fingers traced along the waistband of his underwear about to slide in until he was interrupted by the sound of his mobile phone ringing. He tried ignoring it till it rang again, and again, and again till his phone was basically at the point it was vibrating off his desk side table. He picks it up angrily, answering in a pissed off blue-balls type of way, "Hello?" Drew says, annoyed, waiting for a reply but only hearing breathing down the phone."Who is this?" He asks slightly more toned down and calm immediately, hearing a high pitch noise and then a deep voice; "What's your favourite scary movie?"

Drew's eyes widen in shock and confusion, 'this isn't really happening.' he wonders to himself before replying to the question with a small tremble of fear on his face "hellraiser" he mumbles into the phone, his hands shaking with fear. Drew stands there frozen in fear as he listens to ghostface's breathing over and over until he replies; "since you love it so much, how about a quiz. get one wrong, and you die. " Hearing a serial killer say that over the other line causes his heart to skip a beat, "fine. Let's get this over with" his reply shaky and scared waiting for the quiz to begin. "In the movie, Hellraiser, the "box" is the catalyst for the horrifying events that take place in this movie. Who is the first character to open it?" Once the question is fully comprehended in Drew's mind, his eyes widen when he can't remember."Uh.." he stutters out.

"Cat, got your tongue?" Ghostface says smugly from the other line. After a couple more seconds of silence from Drew, ghostface ultimately decides that time has run out "times up, pretty boy." Ghostface says with a chuckle hanging up from the call, Drew looks around his room waiting for the attack to happen. Ghostface barges through his bedroom door, holding a knife high in the air, ready to strike into Drew's flesh. Drew lets out a low scream before lunging himself at Ghostface, tackling the knife from his body, Ghostface stuggles and fights back, throwing Drew down on the bed. A small smirk appears on your face under the ghostface mask as you eye up the trembling, sweaty, muscular man that is lying down below you. Something just comes over you, and you drop down to your knees and swiftly begin fiddling with Drew's belt pulling it off in one quick motion.

Drew's cock had already become stiff the moment you barged into his bedroom door and he got to see just how small you were compared to him, and the way he had enough time to check out your ass in the black cloak, he knew at that moment that he wasn't going to die but he was going to get his dick wet. Drew's eyes widen, and a smirk creeps up on his lips as he sees the supposedly maniac killer drop down onto his knees and whip out his cock revealing his bushy but maintained pubes, You lift up your ghostface mask ever so slightly just so your mouth could be revealed. You tease his tip by rubbing it against your lips back and forth before sliding it into your mouth as you begin swirling your tongue around his beautifully pink tip.

Drew's eyes look down to be met with dark shallow holes of the mask, and his eyes travel further down to meet your mouth as he watches his cock disappear into your slick wet mouth. You tongue making sure to coat every inch of his large shaft, making it all wet and easy to slip back and forth down your throat. Your eyes roll back under the mask as he begins to buck his hips up into your throat, causing you to gag making your throat tighten around his member as it fucks your mouth. The wet sounds of your mouth echos throughout the room. What was supposed to be a murder turned into a mouth fucking party, and you just let it happen he had some sort of control over you.

You tried to remain still and silent as he bucked his hips up into your mouth, his tip curving down your throat. Drew grips the back of the Ghostface mask pushing your head right down to the base of his cock, his maintained tidy pubes tickle against your upper lip. Drew removes his hand from the back of your head allowing you to take control of his cock, you could've easily grabbed the knife from the floor... but no. You decide to wrap your hands around the base of his cock and begin to jerk it up and down while your swirl your tongue around his pretty pink tip, gently rubbing your lips against it.

You hover your mouth over his tip, you slowly open your mouth allowing spit to drip out and onto his cock. You watch it run down before it reaches your hand and you use it as lube to jerk his cock again up and down, faster and faster. Drew lets out quiet, with little moans and whimpers, before some sort of dominance takes over his mind and body as he grips the back of your head pulling you off his cock in one swift motion. He stands up and lifts you up onto the bed, he lifts up your Ghostface gown revealing black shorts that hug your ass just right, "fuck yes" he mumbles to himself spanking your left cheek once them spanking the second cheek once.

Drew pulls down your ass-hugging shorts, revealing perfectly round and juicy cheeks. Drew licks his lips until you stand up, putting a knife to his neck. "Eat. my. ass." You say sternly, and in a commanding tone, Drew pulls his hands up. "woah woah." He says laying his body down cautiously on the bed as you slowly climb on top of him, your knees either side of his chest as you slowly sit down on his face feeling his nose and tongue slip right in between your cheeks. Drew begins to lap up your hole, tasting it. He gently pushes his tongue as deep into your boy-pussy as he possibly can, feeling his tongue inside your hole could've made you orgasm right then and there.

You can feel Drew's mouth change into a smirk as his tongue laps around in circles, he begins to tongue fuck you. He pushes his tongue back and forth inside your ass. You lean down and take his dick back in your mouth, moaning around his cock sending the vibrations straight to the base and then his balls. You begin to shake your ass on his face, Drew brings his hands up to your ass giving it a smack, and then gripping it as he tongue fucks you. You pull your ass away from Drew's tongue, hearing him let out a "awh" as his tongue suddenly feels the cold air. You pull up your black Ghostface gown, twerking your ass against his cock hearing it slap back and forth against your bubble butt. Drew lets out moans and groans as he feels your fingers against his tip gently adjusting it to fit right at your hole, you gently push yourself down feeling his cock penetrate into you.

Drew throws his head back, letting out a groan as his mouth turns into an O shape. "fuck fuck fuck" he keeps repeating himself over and over as he feels your hole squeeze around his cock, you let out a chuckle as you place your hands down on his abs feeling them as you begin to bounce up and down on his cock. Drew's body shudders under your touch, feeling your hands graze against his abs, you buck your hips back and forth feeling his cock rub against your sweet spot, milking it with each and every buck of your hips. Drew's eyes darken with hunger as he pushes you off his cock and placing you into the doggy style position.

With one spank of your ass Drew becomes ultimately mesmerised with your ass, the way it jiggles. A smirk grows on his face as he lines his cock up with your hole thrusting deep inside, feeling his cock being warmed by your boy-pussy. You feel his pubes against your ass as he stays inside you without movement, he slowly pulls out before thrusting back in roughly watching your ass jiggle "oh shit" he lets out with a huge laugh "fuck yes!". Your eyes widen feeling the pace he's fucking you at, "ah!" You gasp out bitting your lip to try and remain quiet.

Drew can't take his eyes off of your ass, the way it ripples and jiggles makes Drew fuck you harder "these backshots are going crazy" he says out in a frat boy tone causing you to roll your eyes. He grips onto your hips pushing you on and off his cock watching it disappear and then reappear with just a few thrusts, "you like that, mr ghostface?" Drew says in a cocky tone as he smacks your ass and thrusts deep into you, milking your g-spot. He rubs his hand in circles, around your ass feeling the shape and the jiggle "so perfect," he mumbles under his breath before spanking it once more for a final jiggle.

Drew grips your hips once more fucking you into oblivion causing you to shoot your load from the stimulation, "A-AH!" You groan out throwing the ghostface mask off, sweat dripping off your face becoming a moaning mess against the bedsheets as your hand grip the sheets. "Take it like a good boy!" Drew groans out, thrusting his hips sloppily once more before shooting his load deep inside your boy-pussy. You collapse against the bed feeling Drew's cock slip out of your hole, Drew spanks your ass once more letting out a laugh.

He lays down next to your limp body, your face all sweaty as you breathe heavily. "Don't think we're done yet. This is your ten minute break," he says with a huge smile on his face, causing you to smirk slightly. Your hole makes a wet sound as Drew's cum seaps out and drips down onto your balls, you bite your lip excited for what's to come.

taglist - @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @ghostking4m @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares

[coppy-catt]

like it part iii.

megumi fushiguro x reader, college au

series masterlist

your dorm was quiet, save for the low hum of R&B drifting from your laptop speakers—soft, slow, the kind of music that filled the silence without crowding it. the only light came from the gentle glow of your desk lamp and the faint, silvery spill of streetlight seeping through the blinds. the air carried a hint of vanilla, subtle and sweet, mixed with something warmer—something unmistakably you.

megumi sat cross-legged on your bed, textbook balanced on his thigh, trying to focus on the words in front of him. you were beside him, lying on your stomach, feet swaying lazily behind you as you flipped through your notes.

on the surface, it looked like you were studying. technically, you were. there were highlighters. post-its. a psych quiz in the near future.

but the real test?

keeping his eyes on the page and not on the way your shirt slipped off your shoulder when you shifted. or the way you chewed on your pen cap when you were concentrating. or the occasional brush of your hand against his that sent lightning up his spine.

he’d been in your room for maybe fifteen minutes, and already his nerves were coiling tighter by the second. not because you were doing anything wrong—you were relaxed, casual, completely at ease. like this was just another night. like this was normal.

but nothing about this felt normal to him.

your presence was a constant pull—your soft laughter when you mispronounced a vocab term, the way your leg brushed his now and then, deliberate or not. and the scent of you, clinging to the sheets and the air, was making it hard to breathe.

“so, this part of the chapter is about electromagnetic induction,” megumi said, tapping the page with his pen like it could ground him. like it could calm his racing heart. “super easy.”

shifting into a sitting position beside him, your lips tugged into a smirk. “says the walking textbook.”

he gave a small shrug. “it’s not that hard once you break it down. faraday’s law—basically, a change in magnetic field causes a current.”

he pointed to the vocab word in the textbook lying open in front of you, trying to keep his voice steady. but when he glanced over to see if you were following along, his breath hitched.

you weren’t looking at the book. you were looking at him.

your lips slightly parted, eyes fixed on his face with a softness that made his chest tighten. it wasn’t just curiosity—it was focus, interest, intention.

megumi immediately looked away, the tips of his ears turning red.

you looked too damn enticing.

the way your eyes lingered on him like he was the most interesting thing in the room, it was enough to short-circuit his brain. he could talk all day about physics, about laws and fields and forces, but right now, the only current he could feel was the one sparking between the two of you.

and it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

he tried to focus—really, he did. cleared his throat, forced his eyes back to the page, even muttered something under his breath about “lenz’s law”—but the words blurred.

“megumi,” you said, voice soft, almost coaxing.

he glanced at you again, hesitantly this time—and you were still watching him. like you knew. like you’d caught on to every subtle flick of his gaze, every stiff inhale, every time his voice wavered.

“yeah?” he asked, trying—and failing—to sound casual.

you tilted your head, eyes flicking from his lips back to his eyes. “you’re kinda bad at pretending you’re okay.”

he let out a breath of a laugh, low and tight. “am I that obvious?”

you smiled, scooting just a little closer. “a little.”

silence settled between you for a moment—thick and charged. his fingers twitched beside yours, aching to close the distance. and when your leg pressed more firmly against his, megumi finally looked up to look at you.

really look at you.

“look, I don’t know what this is,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “but I don’t want to mess it up.”

your gaze fell to his lips.

“you won’t,” you mumbled as you leaned in and connected your lips to his.

and it was like everything in the room faded—the hum of the music, the open textbook, the faint city sounds drifting in through the window. all of it blurred at the edges, swallowed by the feeling of you. the warmth of your mouth, the way your fingers curled gently around his wrist, grounding him.

he kissed you back slowly, almost reverently, like he was still trying to convince himself this was real. that you wanted this. that you wanted him.

and you did.

he could feel it in the way your body leaned into his, in the way you deepened the kiss, like you couldn’t help it. like you’d been waiting, too.

you gently pushed the textbook off the bed, letting it thud softly onto the floor, then shifted forward—slow and deliberate—as you crawled into his lap, straddling him.

megumi’s hands instinctively found your hips, his grip tightening as you settled onto him. his breath hitched—sharp and audible—like your weight alone was enough to unravel him.

your own hands slid up his chest, fingers bunching slightly in the fabric of his hoodie as you pulled him closer.

and he kissed you back like he’d been starving for it, like he finally let go of whatever was holding him back. his hands roamed up your sides, feeling the warmth of you through your clothes, anchoring himself in the rhythm of your body moving against his.

when your hips shifted just slightly, a quiet groan rumbled from his throat, his forehead dropping to yours as he tried to catch his breath.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he murmured, voice low, strained, completely wrecked.

you smiled against his lips. “that’s not the plan.”

but the way you rolled your hips again, slow and purposeful?

it sure felt like one.

your name left his lips in a whine, soft and desperate—his voice cracking under the weight of it.

his hands gripped your hips tighter, fingers digging in as if he could anchor you in place, stop you from driving him any closer to the edge. but even as he tried to still your movements, his body betrayed him—hips twitching upward, chasing the friction you were giving him.

“please,” he breathed, forehead pressed to yours, eyes shut tight. “if you keep doing that —”

he didn’t finish the sentence. couldn’t let you find out how pathetically close he was to busting in his pants. just from dry humping you.

then, as if the universe had decided to show him mercy, you slid off his lap.

he exhaled sharply, body still trembling, grateful for the space—for the moment to collect himself.

but that relief was short-lived.

because you didn’t move away.

you kept sliding—down, between his legs. your hands running lightly along his thighs as you settled on your knees in front of him. and the moment your eyes lifted to meet his, wide and purposeful and so damn sure, his jaw fell open.

“wait—what are you…?” his voice came out strangled, barely a whisper.

but he already knew what you were doing.

and the realization alone nearly undid him all over again.

your fingers toyed with the hem of his hoodie, dragging it up just enough to expose the band of his sweats. megumi’s breath hitched, his entire body going still—like if he moved, he might shatter.

he stared down at you, wide-eyed, lips parted, completely speechless as your hands slipped beneath the fabric. the heat of your touch against his skin made his stomach tense, made his thighs twitch under your grip.

“y-you sure?” he breathed, though the words barely held weight—his voice weak, shaking, like he already knew he wouldn’t stop you if you kept going.

you looked up at him, a gentle smile tugging at your lips, and gave a quiet nod. then, leaning in, you kissed him once more—slow and lingering—before trailing lower, your mouth brushing against the sharp line of his hip.

megumi’s head fell back with a low groan, one hand flying up to grip the edge of your comforter, the other carding through your hair.

he was screwed. completely, totally, hopelessly screwed.

and god, he never wanted anything more.

your kisses trailed lower, slow and deliberate, like you were savoring every inch of him—every twitch of muscle, every shaky breath. megumi’s hands fisted the comforter tighter, knuckles white, his chest rising and falling in quick, uneven rhythm.

when your fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his sweats, his hips jolted slightly—his breath caught in his throat.

“shit,” he whispered, voice raw, eyes squeezing shut.

you only smiled, dragging the fabric down just enough to free him—his breath catching in a strangled gasp as cool air hit overly sensitive skin.

he looked down at you again, eyes dark and full of disbelief, desire, and something softer—like awe. like he couldn’t believe you were real.

and then your mouth was on him.

the first touch of your lips made his whole body tense, a guttural moan ripping from deep in his chest. his hand flew to your shoulder, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

“f-fuck, please—” he stammered, the sound of your name barely making it out of his mouth.

it was too much. too good. too you.

and he knew, without a doubt, he wasn’t going to last.

the way your lips wrapped around him slowly, deliberately, like you had all the time in the world—made megumi feel like his sanity might start to slip.

his thighs tensed beneath you, breath staggering as he tried to hold on to something, anything. but your mouth was warm and wet and perfect, and every flick of your tongue, every slow pull, dragged a sound from him he didn’t even know he could make.

he looked down at you through hooded eyes, completely undone by the sight—your lashes lowered, cheeks hollowing just slightly, your hands steady on his hips as you took him deeper. you looked so focused, so intent on him, like you wanted to memorize every reaction, every shiver, every curse that tumbled from his lips.

“god,” he breathed, voice wrecked. “you—fuck, you feel so good.”

he tried to hold back. tried not to fall apart too fast, but the pressure was unbearable, his muscles straining as pleasure twisted tight in his core.

your name left his lips again, barely more than a whisper.

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned, voice breaking.

but even as he said it, his hips bucked once, shallow and shaky, and his other hand slid from the bed to your hair, not to guide—just to feel. to anchor himself in the reality of you.

because if this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

but with both hands in your hair now, you took that as a sign he wanted control. so you gave it to him. peering up into his eyes, you let your hands fall behind your back.

he didn’t know how to react at first, but his body took over. his hips rolled forward in slow, tentative thrusts, careful, almost shy. not wanting to hurt you.

then you let out a muffled moan—and he broke.

a curse slipped past his lips as his grip in your hair tightened. his pace shifted, thrusts deeper, more desperate, using your mouth to chase his own pleasure.

megumi was unraveling.

his head tipped back, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to hold on for just another second, another breath—but you made it impossible. every swirl of your tongue, every soft sound you made around him, pushed him further, faster, to the edge.

“shit, I’m gonna—” he gasped, body tensing beneath your touch, but it was too late.

his hips stuttered, a broken moan catching in his throat as he came, full and hard, his entire body locking up beneath you.

the pleasure hit him like a wave—sharp, dizzying, too much and not enough all at once. his chest heaved, heart racing as his hand slid from your hair to his side, suddenly too weak to hold onto anything at all.

you slowed, gentle now, letting him ride it out until his body relaxed completely, slumping back against the side of the bed like every bone in him had melted.

he looked down at you, eyes hazy but full of adoration. for you.

“…c’mere,” he murmured, voice rough, still breathless.

he caught your wrist gently and tugged you toward him, guiding you both from the floor onto the bed and pulling you into his lap. his arms wrapped around your waist as you settled over him.

that look came over him again—that soft, stunned expression like he couldn’t quite believe this was real. like he didn’t know what he did to deserve this moment, to deserve you.

“what did I say about staring?” you huffed.

a sheepish grin tugged at his lips, but his eyes never left yours. “can’t help it,” he murmured, voice low and honest. “you’re breathtaking.”

your breath hitched, the sincerity in his gaze making your heart stutter. so instead of answering, you leaned forward and kissed him—slow and sweet. his hands gripped your waist a little tighter, anchoring himself to you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

when you pulled back just enough to speak, your noses still brushed. “you’re such a sap.”

“only for you.”

and when he kissed you again, it was deeper. warmer. like a promise—one he didn’t know how to say yet, but was desperate to show.

his hands slid from your waist to your ass, gripping tight as he began to move you against him—slow, deliberate, chasing friction that quickly turned into frustration.

because nothing was happening.

he stilled, breath catching in his throat. shit.

too sensitive. too spent. his body was still reeling from earlier, and no matter how much he wanted you—and he wanted you, badly—his dick wasn’t cooperating.

panic flickered behind his eyes, but he masked it quickly, shifting gears before the moment could break. because even if he couldn’t fuck you properly, he was still going to give you everything.

“lay down,” he murmured against your lips, voice low, commanding.

your breath hitched, a bright flush blooming across your cheeks. “I — look, I…”

you stumbled over the words, lips parted, eyes now avoiding his.

the sudden shift in your energy caught him off guard, and he stilled immediately. his hands loosened their grip as he searched your face, but the way your eyes darted away from his made it hard to read you.

so gently, he raised a hand to your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he tilted your face toward his—giving you no choice but to meet his gaze.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, voice soft but steady, concern laced through every word.

you hesitated, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “I don’t know,” you said quietly. “I just—I—you make me feel really good, megumi. and I guess… I can’t help but feel like I don’t make you feel the same. kind of feel like I’m not good enough, not gonna lie.”

he stared at you, stunned—jaw slack, breath caught in his throat.

what?

the words hit him like a punch to the chest, knocking the wind right out of him. you—you—thought you weren’t good enough?

before he could protest, you continued.

“I just — I was so drunk last time and I feel like I made such an idiot of myself - “

“are you serious?” he finally breathed, eyes wide with disbelief. “you have no idea what you do to me.” he shook his head, still reeling. “you’re everything.”

a blush bloomed across your cheeks as you dropped your gaze, quickly hiding your face in your hands.

megumi didn’t let you stay hidden for long though.

he reached for you, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrists and peeling your hands away from your eyes. his touch was soft, patient, like he was handling something fragile.

“last time was perfect,” he murmured, voice low and full of conviction. “you were perfect.”

your eyes met his again, wide and unsure, but the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—made something inside you unravel.

your lips connected to his. there was no urgency, no expectation. just warmth, steady and consuming, the kind that wrapped around your ribs and settled deep in your chest.

when he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his thumbs brushed along your cheeks. “tell me what you need,” he whispered.

your breath hitched, and your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I need you.”

a wave of emotion passed over him—sharp and sudden, like it caught him off guard.

it wasn’t lust, not entirely. it was deeper. he felt it in his chest, in the tightness in his throat, in the way his grip on you softened like he was holding something precious. because he was.

you needed him.

not just his touch. Him.

he guided you back gently, laying you down against the pillows, his body following yours, settling beside you rather than over you—no pressure, no weight, just presence. his hand traced soft lines along your stomach while his mouth explored yours. learning you all over again.

you exhaled, a sound that was part relief, part want.

he dipped his head to your neck, pressing slow kisses there, savoring every reaction he pulled from you. every sigh, every quiet inhale, every push, every pull.

megumi’s lips ghosted over yours again, slower this time—less about hunger, more about connection. his hands moved with the same careful intent, gliding over your sides, your waist, learning every curve like he was mapping sacred ground.

your body reacted to him like it had been waiting—arching into every touch, chasing his warmth, clinging to the steadiness of him. and he gave it all freely. not just his body, but every unspoken word, every ounce of tenderness he’d never known how to express until now.

he kissed your shoulder, then your collarbone, dragging his mouth lower with reverence. when his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your sweats, he paused, eyes flicking up to yours, silently asking.

you nodded, breath trembling.

then his hand slid between your thighs—slow, deliberate—like he was savoring the moment as much as you were. his fingers moved over the thin fabric of your underwear, gentle at first, just enough to tease, to coax a soft sound from your lips.

megumi watched you closely, eyes fixed on your face, soaking in every shift of your expression. the way your brows pinched. the way your lips parted. the way your hips arched ever so slightly into his hand.

“shit, baby, you’re so wet,” he murmured, awe laced into every word. “just for me?”

you nodded, unable to find your voice through the heat blooming in your chest, your stomach, your core.

his fingers slid beneath the fabric, brushing against your warmth—bare and slick and ready. you gasped, and his name spilled from your mouth like instinct.

he groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin as he kissed your chest, your sternum, the space between your ribs—every inch.

and then he started moving his fingers.

curling them upward into you.

your body reacted before you could even think—hips rolling into his touch, breath coming faster, hands fisting in the sheets.

“so pretty,” he whispered, mouth grazing your skin.

and with the way he touched you—how patient, how sure, how devoted he felt—you knew you weren’t going to last long.

each stroke of his fingers was measured, purposeful—like he was learning you second by second, and loving every moment of it.

your head fell back, a soft moan slipping from your lips as his thumb found your clit, circling slow and steady. he watched you like he was mesmerized, every twitch of your body, every rise and fall of your chest.

“that’s it,” he murmured, kissing the edge of your jaw.

the pressure built with every breath, every whispered word, every flick of his fingers. your thighs began to tremble, your hips losing rhythm as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

“megumi—” you gasped, voice breaking.

“i got you, baby,” he replied, firm and quiet.

and you came—hard, breath catching in your throat, back arching as everything else faded away. all that remained was him—his name on your lips, his hands on your skin, his eyes staring at you in awe.

you clung to him through it, fingers digging into his shoulder as wave after wave crashed through you—hot and overwhelming and impossibly good. your breath came in shaky gasps, your whole body trembling beneath his touch.

megumi held you through it all, never letting go. his hand slowed, gentled his movements as you started to come down, his mouth brushing soft kisses along your cheek, your jaw, your temple.

but just as your heartbeat started to steady, he moved again—his fingers plunging back inside you, slow and purposeful. your breath hitched violently, stolen right from your lungs as your body seized all over again.

your hips jolted, a sharp gasp escaping you as your body, still sensitive and undone, tried to process the onslaught of sensation.

“megumi—” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, laced with both need and disbelief.

he didn’t stop. his eyes never left yours, dark and focused, like he was memorizing every flicker of pleasure that crossed your face. “one more,” he murmured, voice low and rough at the edges.

the way he touched you now—slower, deeper—had your legs shaking. you could barely think, couldn’t do anything but feel. the pressure was building all over again, even stronger this time, stoked by the way his thumb pressed against your clit in lazy, perfect circles.

your head fell back against the pillows, a broken moan slipping from your lips.

“so pretty, baby,” megumi breathed, the words slipping out before he could stop them—raw, reverent. and the way your body responded, clenching tight around his fingers, grinding down against his palm—it drove him wild.

“you need more?” he murmured, voice thick with need.

you nodded, fast, desperate—your eyes glassy, lips parted, completely undone beneath him.

“what do you need?” he asked, quieter this time. his fingers maintaining their pace.

your hand rose to his face, trembling fingers brushing along his jaw before trailing to his lips. you didn’t speak—but you didn’t need to. the look in your eyes, the soft stroke of your fingers, told him everything.

a slow smirk curled on his mouth. he knew exactly what you were asking for.

and he didn’t make you wait.

he pulled his fingers from you with a deliberate slowness, the wet sound making your breath hitch. then he was shifting downward, settling between your thighs like he belonged there. his hands gripped your hips, steadying you as he kissed the inside of your thigh—then the other. each press of his lips was maddeningly slow, worshipful.

when his mouth finally found you, your whole body jolted.

a cry tore from your throat as his tongue slid through your folds, soft at first, then firmer, more focused. he groaned against you, like the taste alone was enough to ruin him. his hands pinned your thighs apart, keeping you open for him as he lost himself in you—devouring you with slow, devastating precision.

“megumi,” you gasped, hands flying to his hair, anchoring yourself to him.

he didn’t answer—not with words. just with the roll of his tongue, the way he sucked and licked until your legs were shaking again, until your cries turned into pleas, until you were right on the edge. until your grip in his hair tightened, fingers trembling as another wave built deep in your core—hotter, higher, impossibly intense.

and he still didn’t let up, tongue moving in steady, precise circles, as if he wanted to unravel every last piece of you.

“please,” you whimpered, the word barely audible between your gasps. it wasn’t even clear what you were begging for—release, relief, more of him. all of him.

megumi groaned against you, the vibration shooting straight through your body. one hand slid up, splaying across your stomach, grounding you as your hips bucked beneath his touch.

“you gonna come, pretty girl?” he murmured between kisses, his voice low and hoarse.

you nodded frantically, unable to speak, every part of you strung tight.

and then he pushed two fingers back inside you—deep and slow—curling them just right while his tongue focused on your clit, relentless and perfect. your back arched off the bed, a cry ripping from your throat.

that was it.

you broke with a sob, coming hard against his mouth, your whole body trembling as the pleasure crashed through you—white-hot and endless. megumi held you through every second, never backing down, mouth and fingers working you through it, coaxing every last tremor from your body.

by the time he finally pulled back, your chest was heaving, your limbs weak and boneless, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat.

he crawled back up your body, eyes on your face now, pupils blown and mouth glistening with you.

“you with me?” he asked softly, fingers brushing your damp hair back from your face.

you gave the faintest nod, still breathless, lips parted as you struggled to steady your heartbeat. your body felt weightless, like you’d drifted somewhere far away and were only just beginning to return.

megumi didn’t expect it when, with a burst of fading strength, you tugged him down into the pillows with you. he followed easily, letting himself be pulled into your warmth, settling beside you as if this was where he belonged.

you draped a leg over his waist, your bare skin brushing his, and his hands instinctively found your body again—one arm wrapping around your waist, the other splaying over the curve of your lower back, pulling you flush against him.

the low hum of the music wrapped around you both like a second blanket, soft and slow, matching the rhythm of your breathing as it calmed. megumi’s fingers traced idle circles on your lower back, his touch gentle now—so different from before, like he was memorizing the shape of you in silence.

your hands threaded through his hair, playing absentmindedly with the strands, tugging just enough to make him hum in response. his eyes were half-lidded, drowsy but locked on you, drinking you in like he still couldn’t quite believe you were real. that this moment was real.

“nice playlist,” he murmured, his voice raspy, content.

you smiled lazily. “made it for you.”

that turned his cheeks pink. “careful,” he whispered, brushing his nose against yours. “you keep doing things like that and I’ll start thinking I matter to you.”

your breath hitched—not because of what he said, but because of the way he said it. light, teasing. but there was a weight behind it, a question tucked between the syllables.

you pulled back just enough to look at him, your thumb stroking across his cheekbone.

“you do,” you said, simply.

he stilled beneath you.

his jaw flexed, like he was trying to hold something back—an emotion too heavy to name. his hand at your back tightened, just slightly, anchoring himself to you like he needed the contact to believe you.

“yea?” he murmured.

“mhm,” was your simple reply. simple, but held weight.

simple, but it was everything. it sank into him, filled all the hollow spaces he’d tried so hard to ignore. made him feel like he could finally exhale.

“never thought i’d get to have this,” he admitted, eyes dropping to your lips. “you.”

your heart thudded against your ribs, aching at the vulnerability in his voice. you leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “well you do. you have me.”

he kissed you then—slow and deep, full of everything he hadn’t said out loud.

when he finally pulled away, it wasn’t by much. he just held you there, breathing you in like he could tether himself to you that way.

then he shifted slightly, tucking you closer against his chest. his arms wrapped around you tighter, strong and sure, his hand sliding up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes. you could feel his heart beating beneath your ear, steady and reassuring, lulling you deeper into the warmth of him.

and he stayed like that, rubbing gentle circles against your spine, even as your breathing grew heavier, slower.

even as your body melted completely into his.

even as sleep finally pulled you under—safe, protected, and loved, right there in his arms.

“dude. you’re glowing.”

megumi didn’t look up from his coffee.

yuji leaned across the table, eyes narrowed, arms braced like he was preparing for interrogation.

nobara sat beside him, picking at her croissant with barely contained glee. “he came in wearing the same clothes from yesterday. and he’s in a good mood. that never happens. like—ever.”

“I’m always in a good mood,” megumi said flatly, sipping from his mug.

“you’re usually in a tolerable mood,” nobara corrected. “but today? you smiled at the barista. smiled, megumi.”

the raven haired boy rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t quite suppress the upward twitch of his lips. “you two are being way too extra about this.”

yuji let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “so something did happen!”

megumi sighed and leaned back in his chair, letting the coffee cup rest between his hands. his gaze flicked toward the window—calm, unreadable. “nothing you need to know about.”

nobara raised a brow. “that’s not a no.”

“it’s also not a yes.”

yuji thumped his fist lightly on the table. “c’mon, bro, just spill. you finally get with her and now you don’t have anything to say?”

megumi gave him a look that could have frozen lava.

“okay, backing off.” yuji raised both hands in surrender but couldn’t hide his grin.

nobora leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. “you know we’re just happy for you, right?”

megumi’s expression softened—barely. “I know.”

“then why not tell us?” yuji butted in.

megumi’s gaze dropped to the table.

because it’s mine. and i’m not ready to share it yet.

as if nobara read what he was thinking, she told yuji to back off.

and he listened. didn’t push after that.

eventually, the pink haired boy launched into a story about a broken vending machine near the auditorium that stole his last $5, and nobara explained how she was going to murder her econ professor. but megumi sat quietly, the edge of a smile still lingering on his face.

a certain memory from last night flickered in his mind—your hands in his hair, your breath against his skin, the way you’d whispered that he had you.

yea. he wasn’t ready to share that yet.

[saffusthings]

second chances

mob boss! lando norris x reader

part twenty-two: balancing act

word count: 3.5k (exactly!)

warning: talks of drugs, but nothing too detailed

twenty-one | twenty-two | twenty-three

Sometimes they met in the back booth at Brew’s after closing, nursing half-finished drinks and trading sticky notes. Other times, he’d sit sideways in the armchair of her modest flat, one ankle propped over his knee while she lay stomach-down on the floor with her laptop, highlighters scattered like confetti. She’d read aloud when his eyes got tired—he never told her why—and he’d quiz her with questions disguised as hypotheticals that she didn’t realize were lifted from memories he could never confess to.

Once, she asked him to explain the difference between theft, embezzlement, and larceny back to her and he did—flawlessly, too. She beamed like he’d handed her the moon. He didn’t know how to say that all he’d really done was memorize the way she said it. 

Word for word.

“So, you guys picking rings out yet, or–?”

“We were studying,” he told Logan flatly, shooting him a mildly-threatening glare.“It’s actually not all that bad, you know. ‘S the same as, like, strategy meetings n’ shit, basically.”

Logan actually choked on his Skittle, causing Oscar to seize the opportunity to smack him on the back, hard. When his ability to breathe finally returned to him, Logan couldn’t help but just blink at Lando, staring at him like the man had just told him unicorns were real. 

“Who are you, and what the hell have you done with our boss?”

One Thursday evening, he showed up early to pick her up from the café. The warm amber light of the lingering sunset painted the windows gold, and for a moment he didn’t go in. He just stood there, his breath fogging faintly against the glass as the autumn wind blew past.

There stood two distinct figures, their heads bent together, a shared laugh bubbling up between them. Margot said something and nudged the younger woman’s shoulder gently, looking positively mischievous, and Y/N swatted her with a dish towel, grinning wide and unguarded.

The bell above the café door chimed softly as Lando stepped inside. The air was thick with the scent of freshly ground coffee beans and the lingering warmth of the day’s baked goods, but what caught his attention wasn’t the smell—it was the sound of her laughter.

She stood near the counter, apron loosely tied around her waist, leaning slightly against it as she spoke with Margot. The elderly shopkeeper was wiping down the espresso machine, her lined face alight with amusement, eyes twinkling with mirth. Whatever they were talking about, it was easy, familiar. It wasn’t just that they spoke often—it was that they spoke easily.

He lingered by the door for a moment, blending in with the tilting shadows.

“—so I told him, ‘No, you don’t need more sugar, Sir. What you need is better taste buds,’” Margot was saying, shaking her head as she scrubbed at a stubborn coffee stain.

He watched Y/N let out a warm laugh. “Come on! You did not say that to a paying customer!”

Margot scoffed, looking far too smug for a woman her age. It suited her. “He was a regular! He deserved the truth. It must not have been too bad, because he ended up marrying me.”

The two of them continued chatting like this, warmth wrapped around their words like a familiar quilt. The conversation itself wasn’t remarkable, but it was the effortless affection between them that he noted. It was in the way Margot would roll her eyes but still refill her cup without being asked. In the way Y/N, without thinking, would place her hand over the sharp edge of the countertop whenever Margot rounded that corner all while still listening to her ridiculous stories. Small things. Unremarkable things. But things that made it clear—Margot wasn’t just her boss. She was family.

The realization was sharp in Lando’s chest, though he wasn’t sure why.

“This job certainly has its perks,” the younger woman teased, shooting her boss a look. “Y’know, like the free coffee, the day old pastries, the paycheck that helps me pay rent–”

“What, is my wonderful company not enough? You’re telling me now that I’ve got to pay you as well?” the elderly woman shook her head, tutting. “You drive a very hard bargain, I’m afraid.”

After a beat, both of them doubled over in laughter, washrags and spray bottles forgotten as they clutched their sides, matching smiles across their faces. When the laughter ebbed, and the familiar, comfortable quiet settled between them again, Y/N let out a small breath, feeling it deep in her chest. She wondered what kind of miracle she must have stumbled into, what cosmic favor she must have unknowingly earned to deserve someone like Margot in her life.

Without her, she couldn’t imagine a world as beautiful as this one.

What did I do to deserve someone like her?

Margot—the woman who saw a lost twenty-something at a bus stop and, with nothing more than a knowing look, handed her a job at the café. Who took her in, no questions asked. Who made her feel wanted when she didn’t even know how to want things for herself. Who fed her, who taught her, who gave her the chance to earn the place she now called home.

People searched for comfort in all sorts of things—music, books, vices they swore they could control. But Y/N had found the rarest kind: the kind that had arms to hold her, a voice that reassured, a steady presence that had never wavered. Someone who, no matter how lost she was, had seen her as someone worth finding. Who laughed with her, argued with her, knew exactly how she took her tea and made the best tomato soup every time she so much as sniffled.

Family looked different for everyone. Hers happened to come in the form of a woman with silver-threaded hair and worn hands, whose voice was equal parts warmth and wit, who smelled faintly of espresso and vanilla, like she had been stitched into the very fabric of the place she had built.

The old woman reached out, smoothing a stray hair from Y/N’s face the way only someone who had watched a child grow into an adult could. Lando recognized that touch—gentle, habitual, something people did when they cared without thinking about it. It was what he imagined maternal love might look like.

“Just promise me,” Margot said, still smiling but voice much softer now. “Don’t let the world turn you into someone who only works and worries.”

Y/N smiled, but it was small. Like a secret she didn’t want to share. “I promise.”

Lando shifted his weight, suddenly feeling like an intruder in a moment that wasn’t his to witness. The ease, the familiarity—Margot knew her in a way he didn’t, not yet.

For a moment, he imagined himself in Margot’s place, imagined being someone she could lean into so freely. Someone who could belong in the soft, easy parts of her world instead of just the stolen moments in between.

When she finally turned and saw him, her eyes lit up just a fraction. “Oh—Liam!” she greeted, straightening as she wiped her hands on her apron. “You’re early. Give me a sec, I’ll grab my stuff?”

Margot turned to him then, her gaze sweeping over him in the way older people did, as if they could see right through the exterior to whatever lay underneath. For a brief moment, he wondered what she thought of him, as if somehow her approval was suddenly important.

Lando gave her a slight nod, but Margot only hummed knowingly before turning back to her cleaning.

“Had some time to kill,” he lied, pushing off the doorframe. “You ready to go?”

She untied her apron and grabbed her bag, turning back to Margot. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Margot waved her off, practically pushing her out, her smile widening just slightly. "Go on, chérie, get out of here before I find you more to do."

 Lando held the door open as they stepped out into the cool Monte Carlo night, leaving Margot with a warm, knowing smile that lingered after they left.

The next evening, he pulled his phone from his pocket, thumb hovering over her contact before finally pressing the call button. Lando pressed his phone to his ear, staring at the half-emptied flask of whiskey in his other hand.

It rang twice before she picked up.

“Hey.”

Hey? Who says ‘hey’?

“Hey yourself,” she answered, her voice light, cheery. “What’s up?” He could hear faint street noise in the background. She was probably walking somewhere—home, maybe, or back from the bookstore she liked to stop by when she had time.

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, I’ve got to bail on tonight. Something… Something came up.”

A pause. 

“Oh.” She covered it well, but he still caught the shift in her tone. “Everything okay?”

Disappointment.

He frowned, swallowing down the strange feeling in his chest. 

What the fuck was that? Guilt?

“Yeah, just some—” He hesitated. He couldn’t exactly tell her what it was that came up. “—work shit. I’ll, uh, make it up to you, yeah?”

“You don’t have to,” she said, and she meant it. That was the worst part.

A long beat passed, and he sat there, listening to the faint sounds of her moving around wherever she was.

He was already running late—Andrea Stella was waiting, and quality control checks were non-negotiable. Noxium had to be flawless. It was the reason they were dominating the market, the reason his empire was continuing to grow.

But she didn’t know that ‘quality control’ in his world meant making sure no one in the supply chain had gotten any ideas about skimming. She didn’t know that if someone had, he’d have to handle it in a way she’d probably never be able to look at him the same again.

He wondered, idly, what would happen if she ever did know.

If she’d still look at him the same way.

If she’d still smile when she saw him.

If she’d still let him sit on her couch and pretend to study ethics with her, like a fucking hypocrite. If she knew that the man who brought her coffee and listened to her complain about professors, was the same man orchestrating the most sophisticated drug trade Monte Carlo had ever seen?

Would she still laugh with him? 

Would she still look at him with those open, unguarded eyes? 

Or would she finally see him for what he was?

He swallowed, pushing the thought away.

“Liam?” she asked. “You still there?”

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing his voice steady and gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “I’m here.”

“Alright,” she said finally. “Another time, then?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Another time.”

He hung up before he could say anything else.

The reality of where he was going sat heavy on his shoulders as he pocketed his phone. He wasn’t heading to a dinner reservation or a study session. He was heading to a warehouse on the edge of town, where Stella—chemist, strategist, and logistical mastermind—was waiting for him. 

He glanced at the dashboard as the car rolled through the dimly lit streets.

This pit in his stomach, heavy and acidic… it wasn’t guilt. It couldn’t be. He had no delusions about what he did or who he was. 

Lando Norris was The Reaper, as he always had been and always would be.

That night, he stood with Andrea Stella in a warehouse tucked into the industrial sector of the city, surrounded by crates packed full of Noxium—his latest chemical leverage over half the market. Andrea’s eyes seemed to crackle with that aura of obsession, clipboard in hand as he muttered numbers and purities and structural guarantees.

However, Lando’s mind wasn’t on the product.

It was on a girl sitting at her desk, probably click-clicking the end of her pen and drawing sketches in the margins of her readings instead of annotating them. He thought of how her brow furrowed when she didn’t understand something, how she’d say “Wait—okay, but what does that mean in real life?”

What would it mean in real life if she knew, if she found out Liam was a lie? If she found out that he wasn’t a guy who was just a little rough around the edges, or vaguely mysterious in the hot stranger sort of way. He was a criminal, a kingpin. A man who used chemists not for labs, but to manufacture control.

Eventually, the two made their way to a makeshift office where they took their seats at the long metal table, the Italian man in front of him rattling off various test results as he pointed out the relevant documents tacked on to his bulletin board, his tone eager. The scent of ethanol and industrial cleaner clung to the air, the stainless steel gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

Noticing his client’s apparent lack of interest in what he was saying, Andrea paused. “Forgive me for asking, Mr. Norris, but I had thought you were taking the night off?” he probed carefully, trying to see what information he might be able to exact from the renowned enigma that stood before him. It must have been something important to have stolen the attention of someone as stoic as Lando Norris.

Lando, on the other hand, looked entirely unamused. He had no patience for any of the mad scientist’s little games today. “Guess there was a change of plans.”

There was a finality in Lando’s tone that told the older man that perhaps it’d be wise not to push further. At least if he wanted to keep his hands, that is.

Andrea hummed, flipping a page. “Well, it is of course good that you are here. The latest batch had inconsistencies—minor, but worth fixing before it hits the market.”

Lando only half-listened, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

If she could see him now, would she look at him the same way? Would she still call him after a long day just because she didn’t want to be alone? Would she still light up when she saw him standing outside and waiting for her?

He swallowed the thought down and forced himself to focus on the reports in front of him.

As he drove home that night, the question lingered in the back of his mind, crawling beneath his skin, irritating and impossible to ignore.

What would happen to his life if she knew?

If she knew that Liam was just a name, a borrowed skin that he slipped into when he was around her. If she knew that the money he used to pay for dinner, for drinks, for the casual ease with which he moved through life—it wasn’t from an investment firm or a startup or some vague business deal.

If she knew that he didn’t just know men like the Reaper’s Circle—he was the man they spoke about in hushed voices.

Would she still have laughed so easily last night? Would she still have smiled at him?

Or would she have looked at him the way everyone else did?

Would she have looked at him like he was a monster?

It didn't matter anyways. 

She didn’t know, and she never would.

Her voice echoed in his mind, and what followed it was the sharp awareness that somehow, despite all odds, she’d become the one real thing in a life built on fiction. Lando Norris may not have realized it, may have evaded standing in the light of this truth like that of so many others, but the truth was that he could no longer afford to lose Y/N. 

Not when he was just starting to believe he still had some pieces worth saving.

Lando stood in front of the door, coffee cup in one hand and a pastry bag in the other, debating for a moment whether or not this was a terrible idea. 

Probably. Scratch that– definitely.

He'd never been great with the whole "apology" thing (not that he’d ever actually tried), but now it seemed like the socially acceptable thing to do.

The door opened as she stepped outside, eyes scanning the hallway until they landed on him.

She paused, blocking the doorway. "You canceled on me last night," she said, sounding cross in a way that had his heart stuttering momentarily, until he realized it was more teasing than scolding.

He grinned then, holding up a cup of coffee and a small paper bag lightly stained with the butter of the still fresh baked goods that it contained. "I know, I know. But… I come bearing gifts."

Her eyes flicked to the coffee and the logo on the cup.

That looks familiar.

"Is that from… Brews?" she asked, suspicion lacing her voice.

"...Maybe," he replied carefully.

"Liam. It literally has the logo on it."

"Definitely from Brews then."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised when she noticed the drink he’d gotten her— a cardamom rose latte with a dash of cinnamon and just a pump of vanilla, chilled, not iced. He was even holding a bag with not one, but two of the pastry she always ordered on a whim whenever the mood struck: still warm from the oven almond croissants, complete with the little almond shavings and a dusting of powdered sugar. 

She took it without hesitation.

You do not get to be good-looking and also charming. That is so unfair!

“What was that?”

"Nothing! I mean, how did you—" She looked up at him, eyes still narrowed dubiously.

"Margot helped me out," he volunteered, trying to seem casual. His mind raced for a reasonable-sounding excuse. "She’s got a good memory."

She studied him for a moment longer, then sighed dramatically. "Hmm… I guess I have to forgive you then.”

“Mint,” he grinned.

“Just come in.”

As soon as she turned to head back inside, Lando pulled out his phone, flicking straight to his Notes app. He scrolled past a dozen other hastily typed entries—security codes, burner numbers, supply lists—and tapped out:

Brews: - Cardamon rose latte. with sinamon. + one vanila thing. Cold. But no ice. - Almond crossants. 2 of them? More?

The note joined an already ongoing list that had existed longer than he’d care to admit.

When he looked back up, she was already flopped onto the couch, pulling a blanket over her legs as she took another bite of her pastry. 

He followed her in, shutting the door behind him, feeling something loosen in his chest as he did.

There was always a weight on his shoulders, a second skin he carried whenever he stepped into the world as himself—as The Reaper, the strategist, the man who sat at tables where empires were built and destroyed.

But here—inside this apartment, in her presence—that weight fell away like an ill-fitting coat. He could be Liam here. Just Liam.

She settled back onto the couch, tucking her feet under her as she took a sip of the coffee.

I could get used to this. This is lovely.

“You get a free pass this time,” she said, still eyeing him over the rim of the cup, but the smile when she enjoys another satisfying sip is nothing short of radiant. 

It was strange—how easy it was to slip back into this, like shedding a skin. Like shaking off the remnants of who he was last night, the quiet footsteps in the warehouse, the cold efficiency of his work. Here, in the warmth of her apartment, with the distant hum of the dryer and the smell of cinnamon and coffee in the air, it was easier to just be... this. Whoever this was.

“You know,” she said after a beat, licking a crumb from her thumb before swallowing her bite, “next time you cancel on me, you’ll have to get something even nicer now. Ooh! Like one of those pastries from that one bakery in Nice.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “What, I cancel on you one time and now you’re extortin’ me for desserts?”

She grinned – sweet, a little lopsided, showing just a bit of her teeth. One of her real smiles, he noted. “Hey, I don’t make the rules,” she shrugged innocently,

Lando leaned back in his chair, considering absentmindedly. He could buy her the whole damn bakery if she wanted. Probably wouldn’t be the weirdest thing he’s done. But… maybe he’d just stick to the pastry.

“Which one?” he called out as she got up and headed toward the kitchen in search of a napkin for the pondered sugar she’d managed to get practically everywhere.

Not my fault. Everyone knows powdered sugar has a mind of its own.

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, eyes amused. “Just because?”

Lando rolled his eyes, tapping his fingers against his knee and doing a great impression of someone indifferent. 

“F’course. No other reason.”

a/n: i feel like i've been working this one for far too long so idek know what it says anymore. hope it makes sense. if not i'll cry

[phillystrega]

To Be Gorgeous, To Be Seen 1/4

aka my response to the first prompt in the 911 What’s Your Pride Event.

My responses will be separate posts/chapters but all of them will take place in June between seasons 7 and 8. AKA Buck’s first Pride.

Also on AO3 here.

They’d been seated for lunch for all of five minutes when Buck said, “did you know there was a chevalier in France during the American Revolution who was definitely born a dude but successfully sued the French government for them to identify her as a woman?”

Eddie and Hen blinked at him from over their lunch plates but it was Bobby who broke the silence by saying, not unkindly, “no Buck, I did not know that, nor did I expect it to be your answer to the question as to whether you did inventory yet or not.”

“Oh. Uh, no.” Truthfully, he doesn’t even remember being assigned inventory today, which is unlike him. Inventory is his favorite, it basically mandates use of a clipboard.

“What's a chevalier?’ Eddie asked, throwing Buck a much-needed life preserver.

“It’s like a knight,” Buck said. “She spied on England for France. Told France they should help the Americans during the revolution. It was pretty dope.”

Eddie nodded like, yeah, pretty dope. Hen just squinted at him before exchanging a look with Chim that usually didn’t bode well for Buck.

“Buck, are you speed running queer history?”

“No,” Buck said quickly, then, “well, not on purpose, but I mean, I was googling some stuff and I just kinda ended up there.”

“I’d rather he talk about gay history than have to hear any more about artificial insemination programs for fish,” Eddie said, making a face.

“Hey, overfishing is a serious issue,” Buck protested–the most dangerous fish in North America was also suffering from population decline and Buck felt more people should know about that. The look on Eddie’s face said he clearly didn’t agree on that point.

“So this is, what,” Chimney said, “your belated bi research dive?”

“I don't think the chevalier was bi,” is all Buck can think of to say.

“Wait,” Eddie said, putting his fork down. “Are you even bi? I didn’t think you’d picked a word yet?”

“Oh, uh,” Buck suddenly was very aware of every face at the table turning towards him. “Yeah, that’s. I’m bi.” He feels himself flushing a bit which seems silly considering the number of intimate personal stuff he’s shared previously at this table.

Chimney took a handful of parmesan out of its small serving dish and threw it into the air like it was confetti. “Mazel tov.”

“I am not cleaning that up,” Ravi called from the end of the table.

“Are you freaking out?” Eddie asked.

Buck frowned. “I have a tiny dust pan, I’ll clean the spaghetti cheese…”

“I forgot about the tiny dust pan,” Eddie admitted.

“I could never forget about the tiny dust pan,” Chim sighed.

“The tiny dust pan should’ve been our first clue you weren’t straight,” Hen said. “But I think Eddie meant are you freaking out about the bi thing.”

“I am not freaking out,” Buck said, making a show of saying so as calmly as possible. He meant for that to have a reassuring effect on his teammates but judging by everyone’s face, he missed the mark.

“It’s a big thing to learn about yourself,” Bobby said. “An adjustment period is normal.”

“I have adjusted, the adjusting has happened,” Buck said. “Now I’m just…you know. Learning things. About the community.”

“So you are speed running queer history,” Hen said, pointing a finger at him in a way that made Buck want to slide under the table a little bit.

“I don’t think Tommy’s gonna insist on giving you a pop quiz before he takes his pants off,” Chimney said.

“He definitely is not,” Buck said, smirking, and he batted away the balled up napkin Chim immediately sent in his direction. “No, I just, I don’t wanna embarrass myself, and by extension him, by not knowing these things about a community that’s supposed to be, like, mine now.”

“Maybe it would help if you actually went out to meet the community,” Hen said. “Come with me to the Queer LAFD Committee meeting.”

“We have a committee?” Buck perked up at that, the part of him that enjoys knowing rules and procedures suddenly intrigued by a whiff of bureaucracy.

Hen looked amused by him and reached over to gently pat his hand. “There are bylaws and everything.”

“Hear that, Buck?” Eddie said, voice full of false excitement. “Bylaws!”

“Or is it bi laws,” Chim said, eyebrows moving up and down. “Get it? Bi laws, like bi–”

“We get it,” everyone at the table droned.

“Just for that,” Bobby announced as he rose from his seat, plate in hand. “You have to clean the cheese confetti off the table.”

Chim frowned and watched as everyone else got up, one by one, to follow Bobby to the dishwasher.

As Buck moved up from his seat and passed Chim, he clapped a hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder, and whispered, “And you’re not allowed to use my little dust pan.”

[deusfoundry]

basically this but in ced's pov <3

cedric is determined to keep this not so silly crush of his anchored to the trenches of the ocean until the day he dies.

perhaps that's a bit of an exaggeration. but cedric has sworn, since he came to terms with his feelings for you on a sunday night in his third year, when you'd stay up with him so late that you had to force your eyes open and hold your head to keep it from lolling to the side as he crams a semester's worth of charms lessons for a quiz the next day, that he'd never, under any circumstance, confess to you.

it's much too risky. he'd be putting fifteen whole years of friendship at stake on the off chance that you maybe, possibly, hopefully like him back. and cedric couldn't do that, putting the bond you've fostered since before either of you could talk on the line just because he was idiotic enough to fall so helplessly in love with his best friend.

so he forces himself to live with it. he throws himself into three things— quidditch, his studies, and dating other girls.

the last one, he does so less often. two dates a year if he's feeling up for it.

he goes as far as to seek your guidance, asking you to leave in a good word for him, maybe even set him and the girl up to truly cement the idea that he only sees you as a friend.

but none of it has ever worked.

cedric sees just a little too much of you in every girl he's gone out with, and every date ends with him clutching his heavy heart and that bitter taste simmering in the back of his throat over the thought that he's just stringed another girl along in hopes of getting over his crush on you.

he's thought about it before, him flashing a middle finger at his inhibitions and just telling you how he feels, consequences be damned.

he's thought about it in divination, when he's desperate to drown out the sound of professor trelawney droning on and on about merlin knows what so he opts to sneak a glance at you, toying the teacup between your fingers absentmindedly. he wonders what it would be like to touch you, slip his hand into yours, draw lines over your palm out of his free will and without being under the instruction of trelawney.

he's thought about it every night at dinner as you're stuffing your mouth full of food, if it would change anything between you if he leaned down to pinch your puffy cheeks between his fingers and gave them a light squeeze. if him swiping his thumb over the stain beside your lips would really be that bad.

he's thought about it every time you show up to his games with a scarf wrapped around your neck. he relishes in the knowledge that no one else but you and him knows that it's his scarf that's keeping you warm.

he's thinking about it now, as he twirls you around the small sliver of the dance floor you've both claimed for yourselves.

merlin, he could kiss you right now, with your hair flying like they're caught in the gentle summer breeze, free from the confines of the butterfly clip you've asked him to keep in his suit pocket. your dress dancing with your every move, a swirl of colors that almost makes him dizzy. but you look just heavenly in it, so cedric doesn't mind feeling a little lightheaded.

if he could just borrow some gryffindor courage, he'd brush the lone strand of hair away from your face and tuck it in the back of your ear, the hand he's got there serving as a leeway for him to cup your cheek. pull you close and finally, finally let you just how badly he's fallen in love with you. that he'd pluck the night sky free of the celestial bodies adorning it if that's what you wish.

but he just can't.

so cedric settles, like he always does. settles for thanking you for a wonderful night, for teasing you when you stepped on his toes during the first dance with all the champions. he settles for planting a small, tender, and most definitely platonic kiss on the crown of your head as you retire in your dorm for the night, his suit pocket heavy with the weight of his aching heart and your hair clip.

can u tell i love mutual pining idiots in love best friends to lovers

[pankowcrumbs]

Request for Will Poulter. Actress! Reader and Will Poulter participate in the GQ Couples Quiz. Kind of a hard launch.

MasterList

Will Poulter Masterlist

I stared into the mirror as the makeup artist added a final dusting of powder to my cheeks, and I could already feel the butterflies having a party in my stomach. You’d think after years in front of cameras I’d be used to this, but this felt… different.

Because this wasn’t a film. Or a series. Or a red carpet where I could pretend it was all press and PR and walk away untouched. This was us. Me and Will. Together. In front of cameras. For the first time.

“This is such a bad idea,” I muttered, half to myself, half to the poor stylist adjusting my jumper.

From across the room, Will turned his head. He was mid-laugh with one of the producers but still caught it.

“Oi,” he said, making his way over. “Don’t go getting all nervous on me now.”

I looked up at him. “You realise this is basically a hard launch? Like… full-on ‘yes, we’re together and adorable and here’s our quiz to prove it.’”

Will smirked, leaning in to kiss my forehead. “You are adorable. But I am rugged and masculine, remember?”

“Oh yes,” I said dryly. “The very picture of masculinity especially in those lilac socks.”

He glanced down at his feet and grinned. “Fashion-forward. The GQ way.”

“God help us,” I mumbled, taking a deep breath as we were called over to the set.

The setup was simple: two chairs, a small table with cue cards, a softly lit backdrop with GQ’s signature aesthetic. A few cameras pointed in our direction, a producer giving the countdown.

Will sat first, beaming. “Alright,” he said, clapping his hands once. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

“I know,” I groaned, sitting beside him. “You’ve been weirdly excited about it.”

He turned toward me. “We’re doing the Couples Quiz, Y/N. The quiz. I’ve watched the Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively one like five times. This is our moment.”

I tried not to laugh. He was like a kid at Christmas. Still, the moment the cameras rolled, I sat up straighter, adjusted my jumper, and tried not to sweat.

“Alright,” Will said, reading from the cue card. “What is my favourite film of all time?”

I smirked. “Hook. Final answer. You quote it in your sleep.”

Will gave a dramatic gasp. “Correct. And you do a terrifyingly good impression of Robin Williams, by the way.”

“Thank you,” I said with a mock bow. “I trained at RADA, you know.”

“Brag.”

We breezed through the first few questions, laughing more than answering. Favourite meal, dream holiday, weirdest habit; He said mine was putting crisps in sandwiches; I told him that was a national treasure, not a habit.

It was light, funny, and playful. But somewhere halfway through, the tone shifted just a little.

He picked up another card, chewing his bottom lip. “Alright… When did I know I was in love with you?”

The laughter faded from my lips. “Oh.”

Will looked up. “Too much?”

“No. Just… you’re going there.”

He nodded, soft and serious now. “Yeah. I want to.”

I bit my lip, heart racing.

He exhaled. “I knew… I think I properly knew, the night we wrapped on Eclipse.” (Eclipse being the sci-fi film we’d met on he was a hardened war pilot, and I was the scientist who saves humanity, naturally.)

“You came to my trailer,” he continued, “still in that ridiculous spacesuit, with mascara running down your face from laughing so hard… and you gave me half your sandwich even though you were starving. I just remember thinking, ‘She’s it. That’s her.’”

I swallowed hard. “Will.”

He shrugged, smile shy now. “I think I’ve known longer, honestly. But that was the moment it all clicked.”

I reached for his hand. “You’re going to make me cry on GQ.”

“Good content,” he teased.

We kept going, now taking turns. I asked him my favourite city; Barcelona, my go-to karaoke song; “Valerie,” always, and what I do when I’m stressed; clean the flat until it sparkles like I’m preparing for royalty.

He got them all right. Smug git.

Then it was his turn again.

“What’s my biggest fear?” he read.

I blinked. “Blimey, you’re not holding back.”

“I didn’t write the questions!” he laughed.

I paused for a moment. “Losing someone you love.”

He looked at me for a second too long before nodding. “Yeah. That’s exactly it.”

The producer gave a soft call of two minutes remaining.

Will leaned in, his voice low. “Last one. What do I do that annoys you the most?”

“Oh, this list is long.”

He laughed. “Be gentle.”

“Okay,” I said, pretending to think. “It’s when you pretend you’re bad at things so I’ll help you. Like when you ‘forget’ how to use the coffee machine.”

“I’m intimidated by all the buttons!”

“It has two buttons, Will!”

“Too many.”

We both broke into laughter again, the mood light and lovely. And just like that, the interview wrapped.

The cameras stopped. The crew clapped. Someone shouted, “That was perfect!”

Will turned to me, his expression soft.

“You okay?”

I nodded slowly. “I am. Actually, that was… really nice.”

“Told you.” He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Hard launch success?”

I smiled. “Hard launch complete.”

Later that evening, after the adrenaline had faded and we were curled up on our sofa with mugs of tea and leftover pizza, I scrolled through the early reactions on social media.

“People love us,” I murmured, showing him a post with a picture of us mid-laughter and the caption: ‘If this is what love looks like, I want it.’

He leaned over my shoulder. “Look at us, being couple goals and all.”

“Can’t believe we were nervous,” I admitted.

“Well, you were nervous. I was composed, charming, and devastatingly handsome.”

I elbowed him. “You tripped over the light stand on your way in.”

“And recovered beautifully.”

I laughed, settling into him. “Thank you for today.”

Will looked down at me. “For what?”

“For showing the world what I already know. That you love me.”

He kissed my forehead. “Every second of every day.”

I grinned. “Even when I steal your hoodies?”

“Especially then.”

[420days]

GQ COUPLES QUIZ | JEY USO

summary: jey & janey test how much they know one another

warnings : none

"Sweet face, which pair should I wear?" I smiled up at Jey, my boyfriend of three years, as I held up two pairs of earrings.

"I like the silver hoops baby. They match what you have on." He looked up from his phone and over at me.

Nodding my head I quickly placed the gold hoops into my ear and then pulled the silver Vintage Alhambra bracelet out my jewelry bag.

We just finished our photoshoot for GQ magazine and now we're getting read to film our GQ Couples Quiz to help our fans learn a little more about us.

"Help me pleaseee." I stood in front of him and held my wrist out so he could put the bracelet on for me. "Thank you." I smiled and looked down at my wrist once he was finished.

"Janey, Jey, they're ready for you." One of the producers poked her head into the room.

"Thanks Kara." Jey said before grabbing my hand and leading me to where we would be having our couples quiz. Valentine's Day was right around the corner so they had the set decorated in hearts along with little candy bowls.

"You want some candy babe?" I asked him as I looked through the bowl and tried to find some chocolate.

"I'll get some after we finish." He shook his head and then went to take his seat. I sat across from him and crossed my left leg over my right, getting comfortable in my seat.

"Fix your shirt babe." I said to him once I noticed the collar was slightly tucked on one side.

"Preciate you mamas." He said before fixing his collar and getting comfortable in his seat as well.

The producer counted down and we both introduced ourselves. Being the gentleman he is, he let me ask him questions about me first.

"So our beautiful fans wanna know how we met. Go ahead and tell them." I smiled before putting the card behind the others.

"I feel like it was just yesterday but I've actually saw her at this party my brother was giving and I was eyeing her all night. Of course I saw her on Instagram because she's a well known model but in person, mmm." He said making me laugh.

"Mmm what?"

"You had on this satin, tight fitted dress and I was to nervous to say anything to you for real until I saw someone trying to talk to you." He went on explaining.

"Yeah, you knew you had to snatch me up before somebody else did. You still didn't tell me why you were so nervous?" I rested my face in my hand.

"Cause you're this big ass supermodel with a whole lot of confidence and I didn't know if you were gonna take me serious."He shrugged his shoulders and smiled spread across my face.

"Well, you were a gentleman and approached me with a lot of respect. That immediately got you sum browniepoints in my book." I smiled before moving on the the next series of questions.

"Where's my dream travel destination?" I asked him and watched as he actually had to sit and think about it.

"Baby, you don't know this?" My jaw dropped slightly as I looked at him. He ran his hand through his beard and laughed lightly.

"You gotta cut me some slack. I feel like your answer changes like every two months." He shook his head.

"You're so dramatic, it does not change every two months. There is more than one answer if that's what you're getting at."

"Yeah, cause you be on TikTok getting ideas but ima say you really wanna got to Barbados cause your family is from there." He said, still unsure.

"Mmh, and where do I want to travel with you. We literally talked about it on our flight." I twirled my foot around and waited for his answer.

"Oh! St Lucia, right?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Mmh, you know I'm an island gal."I nodded my head with a small laugh.

Of course he knew the answer to all the basic questions like my hometown, birthday, and the details of our first date. I loved how the questions went from being simple to more complex.

"What's one tradition I would like to past down to our kids?" I smacked the cards against my hand and watched as he thought about it. There was so many different answers to the question so he honestly couldn't get it wrong.

"Jey, you know this." I added while waiting for his response. "There's so many answers."

"Y'all see how she calls me Jey when she gets serious? She's applying some heavy pressure." He pointed towards me making the production staff laugh while I playfully rolled my eyes.

"Oh please, just answer the question."

"One thing I love about you is how family oriented you are. I know you would love for us to actually eat dinner together at the dinner table. Holidays are also a huge deal to you so we will be decorating for them.” He gave me a wide smile as I blushed.

"I can give him extra points for that answer, right? Y'all heard how sweet my baby was?" I asked the camera crew as I looked at the camera.

"I'm always sweet for you." He flirted with me.

Once he finished answering my questions it was his turn to ask me some questions and he was not letting up on me. Not to mention his questions matched his personality, goofy and exciting.

"Babe, I know the answer but I can't say it out loud. The people are gonna be in our business." I giggled

"I mean you can forfeit your point." He held his hands up and shrugged his shoulders.

"No, come here." I motioned my finger towards him and watched as he leaned in closer to me. I placed my hand on his arm for leverage, allowing me to whispered his guilty yet dirty pleasure into his ear.

He instantly began to laugh and leaned his head against mine as he did.  I knew his body better than him and he couldn't even deny it. I placed my hand on his leg before sitting up and fixing myself in my seat.

"Yeah, that's a point." He nodded his head, trying to control his laugh as he damn near wiped tears from his face while I did a dance in my seat.

"A point!" I smiled.

"Okay, okay, what accomplishment am I the most proud of outside of my wrestling accomplishments?" He asked me and I thought to myself a little bit.

"Mmh, I'm gonna saying being able to provide for your family but most importantly being able to give your mom the life she deserves. So buying her a house and stuff like that?"

"You know me so well." He leaned back in his seat and nodded his head. He then gave me bonus points for answering the question with multiple correct answers.

Ultimately at the end I got more questions right than Jey but he did get all the personal questions correct. He was the kind of person who knew the details that were most important and that's all I cared about.

"So this is how many points you got." I held my hands up where the numbers would appear on the screen showcasing a 23/25 in blue bubble letters.

"And this is how many you got." Jey smiled and watched as 25/25 appeared on the screen in pink bubble letters.

"Damn you know me, huh?" He looked over at me.

"Of course I know my man, silly." I leaned over and kissed his lips, sweetly.

tags: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh @skyesthebomb @cyberdejos2 @chloeijuana @tian-monique

[borkthemork]

One of the things about Kirigiri and Naegi's dynamic that breaks my heart a bit is how confused Kirigiri gets over Naegi wanting to talk to her and being able to hangout with her.

She's a very lonely person. She has lived her life having guardian figures who left her at a young age or worked her to the bone to become a detective rather than a person. The people she did care about either betrayed her at some point, or used her for their own goals due to how intense her field of work is. So when Naegi hangs out with her or tries to reach out, she finds him an enigma she is trying really hard to understand, because the idea of being unconditionally loved in this way is still a new concept to her.

And she doesn't realize how much she wants this goofball by her side whenever he does ask for her time.

Some of her beginning dialogue before the FTEs start is her trying to give him an out to leave while giving him the option to stay to hang out. It's subtle, since we know Kirigiri can decline this guy at any time and seems to be more focused on the mystery than making friends, but even when she is silent or she talks with him akin to an information exchange, she lets him in through indirect language.

In her second FTE, she even gave Naegi a quiz to see if he is as trusting and loving as he seems, because she's so hyper vigilant over getting close to someone who might have ulterior motives. They're in a Killing Game, it makes sense, but there's this personal wariness of wanting to be close and yet being so hurt from past experiences that she has to test the waters bit by bit.

At some point in her fourth FTE, even when she admits that she isn't the kind to get emotionally involved with people and tried to rudely ask if they can finish the convo, she still makes a transition into talking about her gloves anyway.

She is continually testing how far and loyal Makoto is to being her friend that she indirectly tries to reach out about her own experiences.

She hasn't had someone to confide in about her worries and struggles at all in this school, after all. She doesn't even know how to make small talk or conversation without it being related to stuff such as the investigations or the mystery. Her social skills are very bad, she is serious all the time, and her sense of trust is continuously changing out of fear of getting hurt. Most of her and Naegi's hanging out during FTEs is them walking through the school in silence while she looks around, drinking tea, or doing nothing in particular. She doesn't know what to do with some guy who is okay with being in her presence for the sake of just...being there.

So when Naegi talks to her, it leaves her in this weird liminal space of wanting him close and yet far away. She tells him to go away, and yet comes to him for assistance. She uses him and breaks his trust, and then gets upset when he doesn't trust her back. She says she doesn't want to tell him about herself, and then quizzes him so that he can learn more about her.

She lets him into her space in small different ways, and it adds context as to how much more open Kirigiri is to talking to him in Chapter Six.

She has been wanting to tell someone about what she found for so long, and when Naegi showed how much he trusted her due to the Chapter Five trial, the dam opens. The moment they are away from cameras, she shows how emotional and vulnerable she can get. She had him in the room where her father's bones are, she tried to remain calm while asking Naegi to give her space to mourn her father, she talked to him about how uncertain her feelings are now, and basically everything that has been on her mind.

She's like an abused cat who befriended an emotional support dog, trying to get used to the fact that someone unconditionally cares for her