#to which the author replied: eating

[cerusee]

No one ever tells you, when you’re born, that you’re going to spend an enormous amount of your time and energy just oozing substances.

[gumii-bearr]

❝ not even a little ❞

summary: megumi fushiguro is your roommate, he's also a scary guy... a scary guy that's weak for you.

featuring... megumi fushiguro

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, roommate!megumi, college!au, angst, fluff!!, alcohol, vomiting (from being so drunk), mentions of weed, hangovers, reader cries a few times, slow burn ish, these two are pissing me off, smut, dirty talk, cunnilingus, blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, cum eating, virginity loss (?), mentions of a cheating ex (there is Hana slander im sorry), emotionally stunted megumi, swearing, megumi is so bad at feelings oh my god, ozawa x yuji mentions

word count: 13.8k

author's note: MEOW– guys i been working hard on this FUCKER!

chapter two

You’re pretty sure he hates you.

Your new roommate, that is. 

“Fushiguro, right?” You led with friendliness, hoping to win him over with your charming personality and half the share of the rent. But he was beyond intimidating, standing at the front door, eyes slanted and harsh with boredom. His hair was messy but it almost seemed intentional with how much it complimented and framed his angular face.

He was gorgeous.

Yuko had neglected to tell you just how attractive your new roommate would be when she sent you the address the day before. Though, it made sense that she wouldn’t notice since she’s dating Itadori, not his old roommate.

He looked you up and down as you stood at his front door, a nervous smile twinging at your lips as an awkward tension consumed you. Though he didn’t seem overly bothered by the awkwardness, simply humming in acknowledgement of his name before standing aside to let you into his apartment.

It was nice; very organised for a guy, you thought. He wordlessly led you to your new room, which was Yuji’s old room, and gave you the rundown of the rent and utilities while you tried to not melt at the deep smoothness of his voice.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

“You didn’t tell me he was hot, Ozawa,” you grumble as you tighten the group head into the coffee machine. It’s quiet in the cafe that day, just you and Yuko behind the counter trying to shake off your lack of sleep with iced coffees and fries from the stainless steel bowl sitting at the kitchen window. The line chef doesn’t care that you’re stealing the fries, too busy scrolling on his phone and attempting to blink away his hangover.

Yuko takes a sip of her coffee, her brows knit in confusion, “who?”

“Fushiguro,” you clarify, pressing buttons on the coffee machine.

Yuko was your friend from high school and she was the one that hooked you up with the apartment. All she told you was that he was Yuji’s best friend and old roommate before she and Yuji moved in together. She told you he was in his second year of college, he needed help with the rent and that he was a nice guy.

“You told me he was nice, too.”

“Fushiguro is nice,” Yuko retorts, restocking the paper cups next to the coffee machine.

You give her a look, “nice my ass.”

“You just said he was hot!” she laughs at that, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“You can be hot and mean at the same time, they’re not mutually exclusive.”

“Mm,” she hums, “sounds like your type.”

“Rude,” you mutter.

The bell above the door dings, your eyes peeking over the coffee machine to spot Yuji walking in with a wide smile, “hi baby!”

Yuko grins, “Hey, Yuji.” She leans over the counter, allowing Yuji to press a kiss against her cheek with a loud muah!

“What’s up?” Yuji asks curiously, letting his chin rest in his own palm.

“Y/N was just telling me about her first night in her new place,” Yuko replies.

“Ooh!” Yuji sings.

“She said he’s hot,” Yuko giggles.

A big smile spills across Yuji’s face and he teasingly wiggles his brows, “you got a crush?”

“No,” you say defensively. “I don’t even know him.”

“You can crush on someone and not know them,” Yuji shrugs.

“I don’t think you can.”

Yuji tuts, “ah-ah! Jennifer Lawrence, I don’t know her, but I have a crush on her.”

You look to Yuko, “you gonna let him say that?”

Yuko shrugs sheepishly, “I have a crush on her too so I think it’s okay.”

Yuji points at her, “see?”

You just playfully roll your eyes, “but seriously… What's the secret? Cus I think he already wants me to move out.”

“Fushiguro just takes time to warm up to people,” Yuji explains. “Just give it time.”

You wonder how long it’ll take for him to warm up to you. You’re a friendly person and you’re pretty bubbly but he just intimidates the hell out of you. But his apartment was way nicer than any of the other apartments near campus. And bonus points because the rent was rather cheap compared to other places you’d seen. So you can’t screw this up.

But again, you’re pretty sure he hated you.

He was always grumbling around and seemed to get annoyed when you would put the dishes away in the wrong spots (though he never outright told you this). And he seemed to get annoyed when you were in a shared space, either sitting down on the floor in front of the TV to study or at the kitchen counter with your textbooks strewn about. 

But no way in hell were you going to poke the bear and ask him if he hated you.

Because Megumi Fushiguro was a scary guy.

You think you’ve screwed yourself when Megumi makes a bee-line for you a few weeks later.

You’re sitting at your desk in your room with the door slightly open. You’re focused on the essay you’re trying to edit but it’s hard to ignore the dark and brooding cloud that is Megumi Fushiguro.

“You touch my shit?” He asks. It doesn’t sound mean or accusing but just the depth of his voice alone makes you nervous.

“Huh?” You squeak out, eyes shifting nervously.

“My clothes,” he holds out a folded shirt for emphasis, his other hand holding your door frame (and jesus christ his muscles look so good).

Fuck.

You gulp, “u-uh, yeah, I did. I needed more darks so I just… used some of yours…”

Megumi just stares at you, steely eyes narrow and harsh.

You smile sheepishly, though it’s not really a smile, more of a nervous twitch in your lips, “I’m sorry–”

“Just,” Megumi starts before he sighs, “don’t touch my shit.”

You nod quickly, “right. I’m sorry.”

It’s funny. 

You’ve only been here for a few weeks and Megumi is growing more and more frustrated by you. 

How you always manage to be there when he’s trying to use the shower or the kitchen or do his laundry. He realises the irony given you’re his fucking roommate but he can’t cope with this shit.

He finds himself staring when you walk around in tiny shorts and tight tank tops. Or when you slink down the hallway wrapped in a towel like he can’t see you. Or when you stretch your arms above your head while you’re studying, your shirt riding up and giving him the perfect view of your tummy–

Megumi stands outside the bathroom door, towel and a change of clothes in hand. 

He knew girls took a while in the shower but this? You’d been in there for around fifteen minutes, the shower running and your music playing softly from inside. Megumi and Yuji used to function fine with one bathroom between the two of them, but sharing with you, a girl, proved to be a little different.

“M’so sorry,” you squeak as you pull the door open, your hair wet and combed back, your face free of your usual makeup. 

“S’fine,” Megumi murmurs. 

You quickly duck your head and slink away and Megumi just fucking stares. His breath gets caught in his throat at the sight of your towel pulled tight around your body, giving him a perfect view of the outline of your ass. His eyes raked over your bare shoulders and he almost felt dizzy at the lingering smell of your strawberry scented shampoo.

Megumi coughed into his fist, feeling a certain stiffness in his pants making itself known. It’d been a while since he got laid so he’d just deal with it using a cold shower and thinking about violent video games or something.

You’re finding you have the same problem.

You feel your face flush when he comes home from the gym in compression shirts and sweatpants, an earbud stuck in his ear and his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. And you just sit there in the living room gawking like an idiot as he mumbles an annoyed ‘hey’ then proceeds to ignore you the rest of the night.

He’s caught you staring a few times, especially when you’re waiting for him to get out of the shower so you can use the bathroom and he emerges wrapped in nothing but a towel, his hair dripping water down his pale chest.

And you totally check him out before slapping a hand over your eyes, cheeks flushed as you squeak out an embarrassed, “sorry!”

He just rolls his eyes with a huff and disappears into his room, leaving you to bang your head against the wall because you’re so dumb.

Yuji was right, you do have a crush.

It’s truly a tragic predicament because he seems to have no interest in you. He barely acknowledges you, humming when you greet him and brushing past you when you’re using a shared space at the same time. It’s almost as if he’s actively avoiding you.

“I made you a coffee,” you’re trying to break the ice somehow because Megumi is so unbelievably unreadable that it hurts.

Megumi looks at you, half-lidded eyes tired and bored as he studies your nervous expression. You place the mug of hot coffee on the counter next to his set up of textbooks, notebooks, pens and his laptop.

You fiddle with your hands, “it’s just coffee and milk, I didn’t know if you wanted sugar–”

“Thanks,” he simply says, nodding with a tight-lipped smile before sticking his earbud back in his ear.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment before you awkwardly shuffle off to your room. Completely missing how Megumi watches you leave.

Once midterms roll around, Megumi disappears off the face of the earth. You don’t see him for weeks because he’s either cooped up in his room or he stays late on campus and you hear him get home at stupid hours of the night.

The next time you see him is at a party.

The frat house you’re at is packed with college students all at varying stages of drunkenness. You’ve maybe had half a drink, deciding to hide away in the kitchen and people-watch. Yuji and Yuko convinced you to come along since midterms were over and the stress swallowing the entire college campus had seemed to somewhat dissipate. 

One party wouldn’t hurt. 

“Yooo! Y/N you made it!” Yuji exclaims, an arm thrown around Yuko’s shoulders, the two of them clutching red plastic cups full of some mysteriously coloured alcohol. 

“Yeah, I thought I’d try and make some friends,” you reply as Yuko hands you a drink.

“Damn, then what are we?” Yuji’s teases, gesturing between himself and Yuko.

You roll your eyes playfully, “more friends, Itadori,” you clarify.

Yuji was a guy that was easy to get along with, always making friends no matter where he went. You became fast friends with Yuji after he and Yuko started dating since you were instrumental in convincing Yuko to give her number to him way back when.

“You and Fushiguro friends yet?” Yuko asked curiously, slightly yelling over the music.

You grit your teeth, “don’t think so. I put the dishes away wrong once and I think he’s hated me ever since.”

Yuji blows a raspberry, “yeah right, you should try and talk to him tonight, maybe hit on him, hm?” Yuji wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“Why tonight?” You ask curiously.

“Cus he looks lonely,” Yuji points to the other end of the room.

You follow his finger and spot that familiar mop of messy black hair rather quickly. He’s leaning against the wall cradling a drink and damn he looks good in the black shirt he’s wearing, allowing you to totally check out and gawk at his lean muscular arms. He looks beyond bored, his steely blue eyes scanning the crowd with complete disinterest.

You didn’t even know he was coming to this thing and now you’re suddenly motivated to stay.

You gulp down the lump in your throat before squeezing the plastic cup of whatever the fuck in your hand. You lift it to your lips and chuck it back, the bitter alcohol burning your throat on the way down. 

“Atta girl!” Yuji exclaims, “go get your man!”

“You’re for the girls, you know that, Yuji?” You grin.

“I’ve been told,” he beams happily. 

You take Yuko’s drink off her and quickly throw hers back too, needing some liquid courage to get you over there because at least if you say something stupid, you can blame it on the alcohol. 

“Okay, maybe don’t overdo it,” Yuko pats your shoulder.

You take in a breath before nodding and squeezing past your friends, making your way toward your roommate. You didn’t even know he would be at this party, that’s how little you talk to one another. Yet you find yourself getting nervous and stupid around him. 

You’re barely five meters away from him when you stop dead in your tracks.

A blonde girl approaches Megumi, her shoulder bumping his as she leans against the wall next to him. He eyes her before taking a sip of his drink. You don’t hear what she says but he seems vaguely amused by it and you find yourself almost jealous that some random girl managed to get more emotion out of Megumi in the last two seconds than you have in the past two months.

Your heart thumps in your chest and you suddenly feel small and ridiculous. You clear your throat and quickly spin on your heel, heart thumping in your ears as you pick up another drink of whatever crazy jungle juice they’re serving at this frat party and chuck it back. 

He doesn’t even know it and he just crushed your spirit. 

“Uh oh,” Yuji grits his teeth.

“Why’s she coming back?” Yuko asks Yuji.

“I’m going to stand on a highway,” you grin maniacally. Yuko and Yuji peer behind you and spot the same blonde girl talking to Megumi, only this time she’s turned toward him, giving him her undivided attention as she yaps on about something. Megumi still seems vaguely uninterested but he nods along slowly.

“Yikes,” Yuji cringes, “not him talking to his ex.”

“Ex?” you squeak out.

Yuko nudges Yuji’s shoulder, giving him a ‘what the fuck, bro?’ look. Yuji quickly stammers, “I-I mean, they’ve been broken up for like two years, there’s nothing there.”

You don’t believe him for a second because it certainly didn’t look like nothing. You peek back over your shoulder and watch as Megumi chugs the rest of his drink and leaves, the blonde girl trailing behind him. Great, they’re gonna go have sex and you’re stuck having a crush on your roommate who will probably kick you out when he gets back with her. 

Great.

Great.

You turn back to Yuji and Yuko with a wide-eyed nervous smile.

Yuji grits his teeth, “you okay, Y/N?”

You squeak, “mhm, so good!”

Yuko and Yuji share a look with each other before Yuko sighs, “he’s not worth it anyway, you’re a catch, if he can’t see it then he’s stupid.”

You know she’s trying to make you feel better and you’re a relatively confident person, but when you start to crush on someone and they don’t offer any kind of reciprocation for your feelings, you start to feel a little… not so confident. 

Yuko and Yuji try to make you feel better, introducing you to their other friend Nobara who is much more aggressive in her pep talk.

“You’re a hot, sexy mama!” Nobara shakes your shoulders, her speech slurred slightly. “Who cares about that emo hoe anyway!”

You want to laugh but she honestly kind of scares you.

“You gotta get laid by some other guy! A hot guy!” Nobara hiccups, taking another swig from her cup. “Maybe fuck your ex or something! Or, or, or! Fuck one of Fushiguro’s classmates!”

“Uh, I don’t think losing my virginity at a party is exactly ideal,” you reply.

Nobara’s eyes bulge out of her head, “you’re a virgin!?” She says it so loud that a few heads turn and you shush her quickly.

“Tell the whole campus why don’t you?” You scold in a hushed tone.

“You’re hot though, babe,” she hiccups again. “You could pull anyone!”

“Funny.”

“I’m serious!”

You let loose after that, deciding to drink and do shots to avoid thinking about Megumi as if you don’t keep looking for him all night. You’re always peeking over your shoulder, searching for him in the crowd and flat out ignoring the guys Nobara and Yuko attempt to introduce you to. 

You’re not interested in the pre-med students or the business students or whatever the fuck.

You’re more interested in the tall, lean, handsome vet student who happens to be your roommate and who you haven’t seen all night.

After many more rounds of shots, a game of beer pong and poorly deciding to bet Yuji you could drink him under the table; you’re so drunk. You stumble around the party, hanging off Yuji, Nobara and Yuko since they are clearly equally as drunk as you with how they encourage your behaviour. 

Your head is fucking spinning and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

You stumble around the house, clutching the wall and stair bannister as you attempt to find the bathroom. You open a few random doors, spotting people making out, some other people fighting before you finally find the bathroom, bile rising in your throat and your vision going fuzzy. You find a bunch of people smoking what smells like weed in the bathroom, the smell hitting you in the face like a brick wall. 

They all start yelling at you to shut the door and you quickly slam it shut before you stumble back down the stairs, racing to the back door as you feel the vomit start to claw up your throat. You shove the door open, the outside air freezing cold and nipping at your hot skin. 

You half crawl toward the back fence, your stupid heels betraying you as you pathetically fall to your knees and throw your guts up in the garden.

Your brain is on fire and your stomach aches as you throw up all the alcohol in your system. You really shouldn’t have been mixing your alcohols, but Nobara was so convincing and Megumi had just stomped on your heart.

You suddenly feel two cold hands against your head, brushing over your ears as they pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail, holding it out of your face as you throw up. You’re thankful to whatever stranger is helping you out right now because you feel awful.

Tears prick at your eyes, a mix of tears and mascara running down your face because you really fucking hate throwing up and you really hate Megumi Fushiguro right now.

“You okay?” The man’s voice is distant and a little fuzzy.

You wave him off, “m’fine.”

“You’re crying,” he says softly, listening as you sniffle and wipe your tears away with the ball of your palm. There’s a pause, the man still holding your hair back, “why’re you crying?”

You shrug, “cus I’m sick and I’m s’drunk and some stoners yelled at me and roommate is an ass.”

He hums, “what’d he do? …Your roommate?”

“Nothing,” you whine with a soft sniffle.

“Nothing?” He repeats, his voice sounding slightly amused.

“Nothing,” you say again, “that’s the problem.”

There’s a pause. “Why’s that a problem?”

You groan quietly, “why’re you grillin’ me? I’m s’drunk.”

He chuckles softly, “right, sorry.”

You don’t even know this guy and you immediately start rambling, “my friends helped me find a roommate and everyone neglected to tell me he ws’ hot! And I’m tryin’ to get him to like, notice me, but he’s so mean and I’m like ninety-nine percent sure he hates me. Then he was with his ex at this party right before I ws’ gonna go talk to him! Can you believe that?”

“Wow, he is an ass,” the man says matter-of-factly, validating your feelings.

“Thank you,” you slur before you feel your tummy do a flip and you’re throwing up in the garden again. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, smearing your lipgloss messily. You sniffle again, “m’sorry stranger.”

“S’okay,” he rubs your shoulder, still holding your hair back.

You wake up the next morning with the most vicious headache. 

You roll over with a groan, your head pounding and your mouth tasting of acid and whatever the hell was in that jungle juice last night. You press your face into your pillow and groan softly, your entire body feeling like shit. After a few painful seconds, you pry your eyes open, your vision fuzzy and your eyes sore. 

You’re in your bed.

Now how the fuck did you get here?

You sit up slowly, your head pounding and spinning with a wonderfully terrible hangover. You spot your shoes on the floor of your room, neatly sitting next to your desk along with your folded jacket. You half remember someone taking you home, maybe it was Yuji? Fuck, you better thank him.

You take your phone off your side table (which was miraculously put on charge last night) and search for Yuko’s number, you press her name and the phone rings a few times before she answers.

“H-Hello?” Yuko groans, her voice saturated with exhaustion.

“Are you as lucid as I am?” You cringe, rubbing your eyes with the ball of your palm.

You hear Yuko muffle a groan into her pillow, clearly as insanely hungover as you, “we got so drunk.”

“Is Itadori okay?” you ask with a wince.

“He’s throwing up in the shower right now,” she replies.

“That’s rough,” you want to laugh but it hurts too much.

“Well he did crash the beer pong and drank half a bottle of midori so,” she trails off.

“Can you tell him thanks for taking me home?” you sigh.

Yuko pauses, “Yuji didn’t take you home.”

Huh?

“What?” you sit up in bed.

“Babe, Yuji was so drunk he tried to pet a rat in the street, he did not take you home,” she says.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Then who did?”

“Y/N… Fushiguro took you home.”

What?

—

Megumi nurses a drink in his hand as he watches you from across the room. He can’t help the way his chest tightens as he hears you laugh at something Yuji says, your nose scrunching cutely as you let out a bubbly laugh. 

He also can’t help the way his eyes drift down your body, thinking you look cute with your hair done like that. You’re usually wearing baggy sweaters and shorts around the house, he’s never seen this outfit before and he really likes it.

He thinks you look pretty. You always look pretty but this outfit in particular has him short-circuiting like a teenager. 

He thinks back to when he got unnecessarily mad at you over washing his clothes and how he’ll never fucking admit it but they smelled so good. He’s not sure what the hell you used to wash them but they smelled amazing, they smelled like you.

Megumi has to tear his eyes away when his gaze drops to your cute little ass in that mini skirt. He feels like a perv. He lives with you for god sake, he can’t be thinking such things about his roommate. Not when he has to live with you for the next few years. 

Megumi takes a long swig of his drink, attempting to stifle the thoughts with terrible tasting alcohol and pure willpower. 

“Didn’t think I’d ever see Megumi Fushiguro at a party.”

Megumi has to stop himself from rolling his eyes when he hears her voice. 

Hana leans against the wall beside him with a sly grin on her face, her shoulder bumping his. He knows she’s doing it just to annoy him, of course she is. 

“Why’re you talking to me?” Megumi grumbles out, refusing to give her the satisfaction of eye contact as he sips on his drink because he’s gonna need alcohol or a fucking hammer to the head to get him through this interaction.

“Can’t say hi to my ex-boyfriend?” She teases, leaning her head toward him.

Megumi rolls his eyes for real this time, “you’ve said hi.”

“Oh, boo, you’re so not fun,” Hana playfully shoves his shoulder.

Megumi lets out a huffed fake laugh, “I’m really torn up about it.”

Hana talks to him about some random bullshit and Megumi isn’t even listening because he knows she’s drunk and she would be stupid to approach him sober. His eyes are instead glued to you, feeling himself get slightly jealous when Yuji puts a hand on your back to lead to toward the kitchen–

“–and you’re still mad,” Hana slurs. Megumi didn’t hear a word she said up until now.

Megumi side-eyes her, feeling rather annoyed by her incessant nagging, “you done?”

Hana rolls her eyes, “I’m just saying you could at least have a civil conversation.”

Megumi feels his eye twitch, “I think you lose civil-conversation privileges when you– I don’t know– lie and cheat?”

Hana scoffs and Megumi decides he doesn’t want to listen to her bullshit anymore and promptly walks off, shoving his hands in his pockets as he attempts to lose Hana in the crowd. She follows him around like some stupid puppy for a while before growing bored, probably going off to annoy some other poor sucker.

She also seems to lose interest when she notices Megumi simply doesn’t care anymore. She does this sometimes, drunkenly messaging him every few months only for him to promptly block her account without a word. He’s starting to think she’s the one that won’t move on.

Megumi sighs when he steps outside into the backyard, sitting down on the edge of the porch and deciding to look busy by scrolling on his phone. It’s quieter outside, the backyard mostly empty apart from a few people smoking cigarettes and vaping by the back fence.

Megumi Fushiguro is lonely.

Lonely in the sense that after Hana, he became decidedly more stoic and standoffish. She was his first serious girlfriend and he was stupid and naive for so long before Yuji and Nobara pointed out the rather obvious red flags that Megumi was painfully unaware of.

Because he was young and she was a little older, so she had to know better, right?

Maybe he really was too clingy and maybe he really did need to stop asking to hang out all the time. He felt utterly stupid when he found out she was cheating on him. It made sense, he was too clingy, too needy, too much.

Megumi reverted back in on himself for a long time, becoming sad and angry before he just stopped giving a shit.

He did a lot to forget about the anger and pain he felt from Hana.

He slept around to forget about her, becoming reserved and aloof over time. He eventually did get over it because why the fuck was it his fault that she cheated on him?

But the things she made him feel about himself lingered. 

Made him wonder if he really was too needy and clingy to be a good boyfriend. Maybe he wasn’t respectful enough of a person’s space and he needed to stop trying so hard. 

He didn’t go on dates much, everyone always thought he was too mean or rude to ever ask a girl on a date. Sure he slept with girls but they were quick to leave right after with a “yeah, yeah… I can call you if you want?”

If you want.

He just felt embarrassed, letting them gather their clothes and leave his apartment or usher him out of theirs while half-assed promising to text him later. Megumi didn’t know who was using who at that point.

Megumi is shaken from his thoughts when a body almost falls into him. He goes to argue with whoever the fuck can’t watch their step when he sees you.

Your shoes half fall off as you crawl toward the back fence to hurl up everything in your stomach. Megumi quickly slips his phone in his pocket and strides across the lawn toward you. 

You’re totally out of it.

Megumi pulls your hair out of your face as you vomit, tears slipping down your cheeks. Your skirt is riding up and your top is pulled low on your chest. 

“You okay?” Megumi asks softly, maybe one of the very few things he’s ever said to you. He gently adjusts your top, pulling the strap back onto your shoulder and pulling it up a little to cover the lacy material of your bra. You obviously don’t realise you’re compromising yourself and he adjusts himself behind you to cover your skirt as it rides up your thighs.

There are guys who are nudging each other and pointing at you and Megumi’s gaze hardens on them, suddenly feeling agitated.

“M’fine,” you mumble out with a soft sniffle.

Megumi’s heart melts, “why’re you crying?”

You proceed to sniffle and pout while you tell him all about how your roommate is an ass… without realising you’re talking to your roommate.

He thinks it’s cute, finding you so adorably amusing with how animatedly you speak despite being rather drunk and sick. He finds it sad though that it took you being so drunk for him to sum up enough courage to talk to you.

It scared him how you made his heart hammer in his chest, how your mere gaze on him suddenly made him nervous. But he couldn’t stop himself from staring. You were too cute with your dorky little grin as you stood at his front door telling him all about how you were his new roommate. He made a mental note to curse Yuji out for not telling him Yuko’s friend was a pretty girl and not the six foot two fucking pro wrestler guy he made you sound like.

You can’t possibly have any more to throw up, your skin feverish and clammy as your fingers curl into the grass below you. Megumi rubs your shoulder gently before he feels you slump against him, sniffling and tiredly whimpering beside him.

Megumi goes stiff, unsure of what to do with you. 

He should probably take you home.

“M’gonna take you home, okay?” Megumi says, feeling your body go a little more limp as you nod and pout in response.

Megumi easily picks you up, your legs dangling and your head falling against his chest, then he feels like he can’t breathe.

You look so pretty even when your skin flushes a little pale from being so sick and your baby hairs stick to your clammy skin. He carries you around the side of the house to avoid taking you back through the loud ass party.

You don’t make a peep as Megumi sits you in the passenger seat of his car, your head falling against the car window as he pulls your seatbelt over your shoulder, clipping it by your waist. He quickly sends Yuji a message to let him know he’s taking you home, though he doubts Yuji will pay attention to his phone since he seemed to be having a really good time taking shots and singing bad karaoke.

The car ride is silent and all Megumi can think about is what you said.

Maybe he kind of was being an ass to you. He hadn’t made much of an effort to get to know you or make you feel welcome because, in all honesty, you freak him out with how you made him feel without even trying.

So instead, he ignores you.

Pretending he doesn’t notice how your tongue pokes out from between your lips when you’re deep in focus, or how you always wear fuzzy socks around the house when you don’t have classes, or how you do a little jump to reach things on the higher shelves (which makes him melt), or how you still look at him with such kindness despite how piss poor he behaves around you.

Megumi holds you close as he opens your bedroom door, pushing it the rest of the way open to set you down on your bed. Your hair is messy and your clothes are disheveled, a little pout on your cute little lips as you sway slightly. 

You fall back onto your bed, your head hitting the soft pillow. Megumi sighs before sitting on the edge of your bed, large hands reaching to pull your shoes off for you. 

Your feet look like they hurt, little red blisters forming on your heels and toes. He gently pulls your shoes off and sets them down by your bedside table. You sigh with relief at the feeling of having your feet free of their heel prison. 

Megumi breathes softly and just studies you for a moment. It’s dark in your room but he can see the gentle outline of your face and the curve of your cheek. Your room is quiet apart from your soft breaths and Megumi prays you can’t hear his thumping heart. 

Megumi lets his eyes wander, unable to tear his gaze away from the soft lacy hem of your bra peeking over your top. His breath hitches in his throat and he suddenly feels disgusting for wondering if your panties match your bra— He closes his eyes, biting the inside of his lip.

You whine in your sleep, some of your hair falling in front of your face as you squirm. Without thinking, he reaches up and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, thumb brushing over your cheek.

You stir at the feeling and Megumi pulls away, scared he woke you.

“Mm, where’m I?” you slur, eyes still pressed closed.

“You’re home, don’t worry,” Megumi replies softly.

“Mm, okay,” you breathe, “thanks, Yuji…”

Megumi’s heart sinks but his face remains unchanged. Of course you’d think Yuji took you home, he’s your friend. Why would you Megumi do something like that for you?

He pulls away from you with a quiet sigh, “get some sleep, Y/N.”

—

“How do you know he took me home?” You ask, shaking your head slightly as you restock the mini fridge under the counter with milk.

You managed to shake off the hangover after three days of staying curled up in bed drinking water, throwing back ibuprofen and watching kitchen nightmares on your laptop with all the lights off. But now you’re back at work being blinded by the awful fluorescent lights and smelling of burnt coffee.

Yuko presses a button on the coffee machine, “he texted Yuji, told him he was gonna take you home,” Yuko replies, her hands on her hips.

You let out a shaky sigh, eyebrows furrowed in confusion because why would Megumi have taken you home when he seems so perpetually annoyed by you?

And how did he even find you? You remember the smell of the weed in the bathroom and people yelling at you, then you remember stumbling into the backyard like a bumbling fool, then— 

Oh, no.

“I don’t even know where you went, you’re lucky Fushiguro kept an eye on you–”

“No!” You suddenly squeak.

Yuko gives you a dazed look, “what? What happened?”

You press your hands to your face, drawing out a muffled groan because it just fucking dawned on you who held your hair back in the garden that night.

“It was him!”

“What are you talking about? Who?”

“Fushiguro! He held my hair back in the garden! I called him an ass!” you whine.

Yuko pauses for a moment before she just starts laughing, pressing her hand to her mouth to muffle the sound. You look up at her with the most offended look on your face.

You throw a rag at her, “don’t laugh! I was so mean!”

“That’s one way to break the ice,” she giggles, flinching away from you as you playfully swat at her leg with another rag.

“Ozawa…” you whine, “he must be so mad at me.”

“He still took you home after that though? I think you’re overthinking it.”

“He should have left me there in that damp backyard in my own vomit!” you say dramatically. “No wonder he thinks I’m a fucking idiot.”

“I really doubt he thinks that,” Yuko rolls her eyes, becoming sick of this beating-around-the-bush mantra you’ve got going on.  

“I have to pay all the rent for like, a year as an apology.”

“Can you even afford that?”

“No!”

You slug around for the rest of your shift, moping about behind the counter and wishing the ground would just swallow you whole. When the end of your shift rolls around, you feel more and more nervous about going home now that you’ve figured out you called Megumi an ass to his face.

Before you clean the coffee machine, you make a coffee to take home for him since he seems to always drink the coffees you make for him even if he seems annoyed by you interrupting his studying. 

Your hands are shaking as you unlock the front door, holding a cup of hot coffee and a cinnamon bun in a paper back in your other hand. Your heart is in your throat as you push the door open, peeking inside.

You see Megumi from the front door, he’s sitting at his desk in the living room, laptop open and a few notebooks stacked beside him. Classes haven’t even ramped back up yet and he’s already studying.

You kick your shoes off and shuffle down the hall, heartbeat thumping in your ears and suddenly feeling a chill down your spine at the idea of facing your roommate who you insulted.

You clear your throat, “uh, h-hey.”

Megumi has his earbuds in but he notices you standing there in the corner of his eyes. He takes his earbuds out, “you okay?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I got you a coffee.”

You place it down beside him. He doesn’t take his eyes off yours.

Your knees feel weak under his steely gaze. You quickly hand him the paper bag, “and a cinnamon bun.”

“Thanks,” he says simply.

There’s a long awkward pause before you huff out a shaky sigh, “listen, Fushiguro– I’m sorry about the other night when I like, threw up everywhere and called you an ass–”

“S’fine,” Megumi replies blankly.

“No, really, I was mean and rude and I didn’t mean it–”

“I know, idiot,” he cuts you off again, “seriously, it’s fine.”

Your lips form a tight line, eyebrows furrowed with worry because it’s not fine. You want to say more but you’re pretty sure Megumi doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. Which is understandable, you’re just happy he hasn’t kicked you out yet.

You toy with your fingers for a moment before you nod awkwardly, shuffling off toward your room. You miss as Megumi watches you leave again, feeling stupid for how bad he is at talking about his feelings.

You avoid Megumi like the plague after that.

You’re so utterly embarrassed by what you said and you can only imagine how mad he is about it but at least he’s doing you a favour by not mentioning it.

You disappear from any room he walks into, slinking by and apologising awkwardly when you take up too much time in the bathroom, or bowing your head and averting your gaze when he walks into the kitchen, you’re embarrassed and you feel awful, and it bothers you that Megumi is so vague and mysterious about how he feels about you, sure he took you home and pulled your dirty shoes off your feet and put you to bed. But he also gives you curt nods and vague responses that leave you wondering whether or not he likes you or just tolerates you. 

Are you friends? Just roommates? Does he like you? Does he hate you? 

You’ve got no earthly idea and the easiest way to survive in such a predicament is to just avoid the very thing that’s causing the problem. 

And Megumi is so damn annoyed by it.

At first it was him who was avoiding you, hiding away in his room so he didn’t have to interact with you and now that he knows you’ve been trying to get him to notice you, he’s been trying to linger around nearby and sort of force the proximity because he has no idea how to approach you like a normal fucking person. 

He reaches things for you on the top shelf when you can’t reach them, he makes sure to take your sweaters out of the washing machine so they don’t shrink, he even sets aside the caramel flavoured coffee pods for you because he knows they’re your favourite. 

He’s bad at all of this. The talking part.

What if you think he’s too needy or too clingy or too much? That would just embarrass him even more than he already is. 

Megumi lets you be, assuming that you’re probably regretting everything you said that night after he so blatantly blew you off when you brought home a coffee for him the other night.

But you talk again when your car doesn’t start.

“Fuck,” you groan, turning your key in the ignition for the third time in the past minute, the engine ticking, ticking, ticking before you give up. You whine and give a half-hearted punch to the steering wheel. 

You knew this would happen eventually. 

Your car is run down and sort of shitty. You have to basically shoulder check the driver’s side door to get it open and you can’t actually open one of the back doors anymore because it refuses to unlock. But you’re broke and the damn thing gets you from A to B, except for today.

It’s raining and your hair is stuck to your head from the mad dash you did from the front door to your car and now it won’t even start. 

You’re basically drenched when you step back inside the front door.

“I thought you left already?” Megumi questions from the kitchen, holding a bowl of cereal in his hand.

“My stupid car won’t– oh,” you cut yourself off when your eyes meet with Megumi clearly fresh out of the shower.

He’s wearing grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips and no shirt, little droplets of water slipping down his broad shoulders and chest from his slightly damp hair. He’s looking at you with a bored expression, waiting for you to continue.

You clear your throat and decide the ceiling is so very interesting, “u-uh, yeah, my car won’t start, ‘m just gonna walk–”

“You’re gonna walk?” Megumi’s eyes narrow.

“I mean I’m poor so,” you give a sheepish laugh.

Megumi rolls his eyes, putting the bowl of cereal down on the counter and turning on his heel to pull his black hoodie off the couch, slipping it over his head.

“We’ll take my car,” he says, grabbing his keys off the side table beside the couch.

Your eyes widen, “huh? What– no, it’s fine–”

“Walking in this weather would be dumb,” Megumi grumbles, “just get in my car, idiot.”

You press your mouth shut and do as you're told, trailing behind him as he picks up his umbrella by the door, holding it over your head as you take the short walk to his car. Megumi holds the umbrella completely over you, the heavy rain completely drenching his left shoulder.

“You’re getting wet,” you point out.

“M’aware,” he retorts without looking at you.

Your shoulder bumps with Megumi’s bicep given the height difference between you. You’ve never been this close to him before, well, at least not sober. You never realised how much taller he is than you, it makes you feel kind of safe.

Megumi unlocks his car and opens the door for you, holding the umbrella completely over you until you’re safe in the passenger seat of his car. You curl your fingers around your tote bag nervously, Megumi getting in the driver’s seat.

“Thank you,” you squeak out.

Megumi starts up his car, his car being one of those ones that has a push button to start instead of a key, “I don’t mind,” he shrugs.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, your heart punching against your chest. You take a breath before you look over at Megumi.

“Do you hate me, Fushiguro?”

The question just hangs there and Megumi feels his heart falter at such a question because no, he doesn’t hate you. Not even a little.

It upsets him that you think he hates you, that you think so little of yourself that you let yourself get torn up over what he thinks of you.

He had no idea he was coming off that way, that you genuinely thought he hated you. 

He opens his mouth to speak but it never comes out. He’s not sure what to say or what to do to make you see that hate is the furthest thing from his mind when it comes to you. But instead, Megumi’s mind is choked with thoughts and it’s so overwhelming that he just clutches the steering wheel and silently drives you to campus. 

He still hasn’t spoken when he parks the car.

The two of you are silent for a moment before he hears you sniffle, his heart snapping in two at the mere sound of it. 

“T-Thank you,” you murmur, quickly pushing the door open and shuffling out before Megumi can protest.

No. Fuck. No, he didn’t mean it like that.

“Y/N, wait,” he gets out of the driver’s side, umbrella clutched in his fist.

You’re holding your tote bag tight to your chest as you walk across the pavement in the pouring fucking rain. 

“Y/N!” Megumi is behind you, his hand curling around your upper arm and stopping you in your tracks.

You pause, turning to face him, eyes glassy and doe-like as you stare up at him, “what is it?” you force out. 

You both hope he says something, anything. He pants, his hair sticking to his face as his steely eyes show the first ounce of emotion you’ve seen from him. 

“Y-You…” Megumi doesn’t stammer, he never does. “Take it,” he holds out the umbrella for you.

A silence hangs between you and you sigh, taking the umbrella from his grasp and opening it above your head, leaving him there in the carpark. 

—

Megumi beat himself up over it for days.

He picks you up that same rainy afternoon, the two of you not uttering a single word to one another other than a ‘hey’ from him and a ‘thank you’ from you. He wants to tell you everything, that he’s really bad at talking about things and that he doesn’t hate you. 

He’s not sure how to prove it to you, the words dying in his throat the moment he shares a room with you for more than five seconds. He’s not sure what to say or how to say it.

Hana always told him he talked too much. Which was crazy because Megumi was a man of very few words. But when the two of them would fight, he was always so adamant at resolving the issue and getting to the root of the problem instead of just letting it hang in the air and choke him.

He sometimes wonders if that’s why she cheated.

You don’t talk to Megumi for a while. Feeling small and embarrassed about asking him such a question when you knew deep down it wasn’t true and you just wanted to hear it from him. 

But it hurt when he didn’t deny your question, when he just stayed silent and let you fuss over it for days. You’ve lost sleep, laying away at night and wondering if you should just talk to him. 

Megumi tries to approach you, he really does. 

He thinks about knocking on your bedroom door late at night but every time he finds himself standing outside, arm held up about to knock, he stops himself and wonders if he even deserves to talk to you. 

If he even deserves to try again. 

“I’m the best you’ll ever have.”

He knew it wasn’t true at face value. He knew Hana wasn’t good for him in the end, but it’s hard to ignore such bitterness coming from someone you used to love. 

“Hey, Yuko,” you greet softly, phone pressed to your ear. “Can I ask a favour?”

“Of course… you okay, Y/N?” Yuko asks slowly, her voice gentle.

You pause, “I just… I need a ride to campus until I can get my car fixed. Would you and Itadori mind if I tagged along? I’ll give you fuel money.”

Yuko pauses this time, “…You didn’t ask Fushiguro?”

You toy with your fingers nervously, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

She hums and nods, “We can take you, Y/N.” 

Yuko knows you well enough to know that something happened. You spoke so timidly and she could tell you were nervously fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. She would talk to Yuji about it; hopefully he could knock some sense into his best friend. 

It's first thing Monday morning when you emerge from your room with your tote bag over your shoulder and your hair done in a messy claw clip. You look tired, bags forming under your eyes and you make a beeline for the door without even acknowledging Megumi. 

“Do you need a ride?” Megumi sits up straighter on the couch and holds his keys up as if he didn’t set an alarm just to take you to class. 

“Uh, no, thanks. Ozawa and Itadori are taking me,” you say sheepishly, barely offering him a glance. 

Megumi’s heart cracks a little. He wants to say something, tell you he’s sorry and ask if he can please take you to class. But he doesn’t, mouth staying shut as he nods quickly, “right. Okay.” 

You leave without another word, the apartment feeling awful and still without you. Megumi’s leg bounces nervously and his blunt nails scratch at the inside of his knee. He’s anxious and he wants to fix it so desperately but he feels like he’s only making it worse.

“Hey, Y/N,” Yuji greets with a warm smile.

You offer him a half smile before getting in the back seat. Yuko and Yuji share a look with one another before Yuji backs out of the apartment parking lot. There’s an intensity hanging in the air and you just stare out the window with a blank expression, vaguely paying attention to the music on the radio.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Yuji asks softly, eyeing you through the rearview mirror.

“M’fine,” you whisper back, too afraid to trust your voice.

“What happened?” Yuko reaches back between the seats to touch your knee affectionately. 

You shrug, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Yuko pulls her hand away from you and glances at her boyfriend, the two of them making a silent agreement to talk to Fushiguro after dropping you off instead of going to their morning classes.

Yuji slams the door open, nearly sending Megumi flying into the roof with how loud it was, “Fushiguro!”

“The fuck are you yelling for?” Megumi spits, gaze softening slightly after realising Yuko was trailing behind Yuji.

Yuko frowns, “what did you say to Y/N?”

“What?”

“She was upset, Fushiguro,” Yuji crosses his arms, “what did you say to her?”

“Nothing,” Megumi defends quickly.

“Then why is she upset?” Yuko’s brows furrow.

Megumi sighs, “she just asked me if I hated her–”

Yuji cuts him off, “and what did you say?”

Megumi averts his gaze, “nothing.”

“You said what?” Yuko presses.

“I didn’t know what to say–”

“You say, ‘no Y/N, I don’t!’,” Yuji mocks before landing a punch to Megumi’s shoulder, “you upset her, bro.”

“I know,” Megumi grumbles.

“Then why didn’t you apologise?” Yuko asks.

“I didn’t know how,” Megumi dejectedly sighs. “I didn’t expect it.”

“She likes you, man. Like a lot,” Yuji shakes his head, his heart hurting a little at the fact that Megumi looks really torn up about the whole situation too.

There’s a long pause, “can you lie to her?”

“What?” Yuko and Yuji ask in unison.

“Tell her you can’t pick her up,” Megumi adds, “please.”

Yuji and Yuko share another look and Yuko sighs before nodding her head, taking out her phone to tell you that she and Yuji can’t come get you because Yuji’s brother called and needed his help. It’s not a great lie, but you’ll believe it at first glance.

—

Your phone buzzes in the middle of class. You’re tired and you feel like shit and the professor’s monotone voice is boring you half to death. You flip your phone over and read the message from Yuko.

Yuko <3: Hey, Y/N. Choso called and he needs to borrow Yuji’s car, we can’t come get you this afternoon. Sorry hun x

You frown.

Yuko <3: But don’t worry, Fushiguro is coming to get you.

You panic, quickly unlocking your phone to message her back, telling her you’ll get an uber or just walk but you get a message from an unknown number only a second later.

Unknown: I’ll come get you.

You rest your head in your palm and go to message him back telling him it’s fine but the speech bubbles appear and reappear before he sends the message.

Unknown: Please wait.

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pittering loudly in your chest. You zone out for the remainder of the class, nervously chewing on your nails and tapping on the desk. You don’t want to talk to Megumi, you really don’t. At least not while you feel like shit and your thoughts are a huge mess.

You sit on the grass after your lecture, pulling at the blades of grass by your feet while you stare at the ground, teeth nipping anxiously at the inside of your lower lip. You don’t know what Megumi wants to say to you or why he even agreed to pick you up if he was so against talking about whatever the hell was going on between you two.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when a pair of black sneakers intrudes on your line of sight, you know it’s Megumi from the little scuff marks on the edge since they’re so worn out but they’re his favourite pair.

He doesn’t say anything as he stares at you, hands shoved in the pockets off his hoodie like they always are. You wordlessly stand up, pulling your tote bag to your chest and pushing past him without a word.

“Y/N, I–”

You’re too far ahead of him now, making your way to his parked car on the curb. His head hurts and his chest is tight with nerves but he’s quick to unlock the car for you and let you scoot into the passenger seat.

Megumi quickly joins you, turning on the car and just sitting there for a moment, hands tight around the wheel. 

“I–” Megumi feels his throat close up, “I’m sorry.” You feel your eyes glass over but you don’t offer him anything else but he continues, “I don’t hate you, Y/N.”

“S’fine if you do,” you say quietly, “I know I can be annoying and intrusive–”

“–What? You’re not–”

“And I understand if you want me to move out–”

“No, Y/N, I don’t want that–”

You’re rambling now without thinking, “–nd I know you probably need me to move out cus of that girl at the party–”

“What girl?” Now he’s fucking confused.

“And she’s pretty and I saw you talking to her–”

Wait, his ex?

“–Wait, Y/N, that’s not–”

“And I’m sorry I was so drunk–”

“Y/N, stop!” Megumi didn’t mean to yell, but it instantly shuts you up. He peers over at you and you’re crying, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”

“S’okay,” you sniffle, wiping your tears away.

“No, it’s not… You just wouldn’t shut up,” Megumi makes an attempt at dry humour, letting you know it was a joke by following up with a half-assed breathy laugh.

You just look at him, eyes slightly red.

“I– Fuck,” Megumi curses, knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel. 

The two of you stay silent, the only thing either of you hear is your quiet sniffling. Megumi sighs, running a hand through his messy hair before speaking, “...she cheated on me.”

Your eyes widen a little.

“That girl you saw. Yeah, she was my ex but… she cheated on me.”

“...I’m sorry, Fushiguro.”

“Stop calling me that,” he grumbles.

“It’s your name,” you retort.

“I don’t want you to call me Fushiguro,” he presses his eyes shut.

Your lips form a tight line and you just watch him, waiting patiently for him to continue because you can tell he’s trying really hard.

“Can you just call me Megumi,” he sighs. “Please?”

You nod, “okay, Megumi,” you whisper softly.

“...I don’t hate you, Y/N. Not even a little,” his eyes finally meet yours.

“You’re really bad at showing it,” you say with a breathy laugh.

“I know… M’just really–” he stops himself, his hand scrunching against the material over his thigh, “I’m just scared.”

Your heart shatters, a pout pulling at your lip because you feel like you’re about to cry again. You study him for a moment, your heart warming at the sight of Megumi Fushiguro being so utterly soft and nervous.

You hesitate for a moment before you reach your hand over the centre console to stop him from grabbing and pulling at his own thigh. His hand is cold and his palm is rough but it’s him. And you were sitting here thinking you needed his comfort when really he needed yours.

He flinches at the gentleness of your touch, your hand is smaller than his but it’s so soft and warm. 

He lets you wrap your fingers around the back of his hand, lets you roll his hand over and press your palm to his. It’s comforting and it’s sweet.

“You don’t need to be scared, Gumi.”

His heart flutters at the nickname and his steely blue eyes nervously meet yours. He nods his head slowly and you smile.

“Feel better?” You ask softly.

Megumi holds your hand in his, eyes still searching yours before they flicker down to your lips briefly. You catch the quick movement and your body reacts without any input from your brain, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“Gumi?”

Megumi doesn’t need much more motivation than that and his other hand lets go of the wheel to reach over and cup your warm cheek. Your breath hitches in your throat and your eyes flicker between his nervously. His eyes are half-lidded, nose grazing yours and your hand squeezes tight around his.

“S’okay,” he coos softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “M’gonna kiss you.”

Your heart is in your throat and you start overthinking it, thinking back to the maybe handful of times a boy has kissed you, but never a man, never someone like Megumi.

You nod your head quickly and a smile tugs at the corner of Megumi’s lip because you’re so fucking cute.

You feel the world melt away when Megumi’s breath fans across your lips, his hand coming to cup the back of your head, guiding you to tilt your head slightly as he finally, finally, closes the distance between you, his slightly chapped lips meeting yours.

You melt into his warmth, one hand nervously holding his while the other has a death grip on the strap of your tote bag. 

His lips move against yours, becoming a little more feverish and needy when you let out a soft whine. He feels himself go feral, wanting to drag you into the back seat and take you in this stupid parking lot where everyone can see.

But instead he takes it slow, pressing your lips against his and his hand tangling in your soft hair. You’re nervous and a little inexperienced, he can tell but it only drives him more insane.

He pulls away only a fraction, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips when he realises your lips chase his, your other hand coming to curl around his hoodie sleeve to bring him closer.

“Wasn’t so bad?” Megumi whispers.

You have the most innocent little look on your face, “does that mean you like me?”

Megumi can only chuckle softly at how damn cute you are, “I don’t just kiss any girl like that, Y/N.”

You nod timidly, “m’kay, Gumi.”

Megumi wants to kiss you again but refrains because he knows he’ll want to do other things to you with how you utter the nickname with such innocence, but you’re in a parking lot on your college campus and there are about fifty people that have walked by in the past ten minutes.

But when you get home?

“Megumi–” your hands are clutching the front of his hoodie as he kisses the side of your cheek, then your temple, then above your eyebrow, “wait a second.”

“S-Sorry,” he mutters against your warm skin. 

You’ve barely got one foot in the door and Megumi already has you pinned against the wall in the hallway, a large hand cupping your head while the other rests on your waist. He pants softly, lips itching to kiss you and kiss you hard.

“I’m sorry too,” you say breathlessly. “For not seeing.”

Megumi shakes his head, “you don’t need to be sorry.”

“But I am,” you murmur, “you’re really bad at talking about your feelings but I should have been more observant.”

“S’okay, Y/N,” he rests his forehead against yours, “m’just glad you let me pick you up.”

“I thought about just walking,” you giggle, “letting you grovel for a little longer.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“I’m glad I didn’t.”

“I’m glad you didn’t either,” he smiles softly, running the pad of his thumb along your cheek.

You fall silent, hands just holding onto his hoodie while he presses feather-light kisses to your face. You suddenly feel nervous when you feel a certain stiffness against your thigh.

“...Do you want to–”

“I’m a virgin.”

Megumi pulls away from you, “W-What?”

“You were gonna ask if we could… y’know,” your eyes shift away from him, “I panicked.”

Megumi laughs, like actually, laughs at that.

“Don’t laugh,” you playfully punch his shoulder, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “A lot of people are still virgins in college.”

“M’not laughing at that,” he grins. “You’re just… you’re really cute.”

You feel your face heat at that, “stop it.”

“M’serious.”

“You’re always serious.”

“Whatever.”

You giggle softly, letting him press a soft peck to your lips.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie,” Megumi lies through his teeth, liking the way you flush and stammer at outing yourself. 

“Oh,” you say quietly. 

“Why ‘oh’?” He teases.

“Nothing,” you say quickly, brows knit.

“What?” he presses with a shit-eating grin. 

“Nothing,” you retort.

“...Did you want to have sex?”

Your heart drops, eyes widening slightly because yes, you do want to have sex with Megumi. You’d never really thought much about sex until him. Never thought you’d want a guy to manhandle you or put his hands all over your body until Megumi.

“Can we?” you ask timidly.

Megumi feels a pang in his heart because you’re so fucking cute he might pass away. He smiles before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “if you want to.”

“But do you want to?”

Megumi doesn’t need to think very hard about that one.

“I’ve wanted you in my bed since I first met you, Y/N.”

You breathe hard, your heart racing in your chest and you’re sure it’s loud enough for Megumi to hear how fucking nervous yet turned on you are. Your eyes fall to his lips again, revelling in the feeling of his breath fanning over your lips.

You press up on your tiptoes, Megumi’s head slowly tilting and following you, wondering what you’re doing. Your soft lips graze the shell of his ear and you smile cheekily, about to fucking out yourself with the last of your confidence. 

“Fuck me then.”

Megumi slams you against the wall, arms caging your body as he presses his lips hard against yours. The kiss is needy and feverish, a mess of clashing teeth and wandering hands. Megumi’s hand cups the back of your head, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss.

His tongue presses against your lips before sliding into your mouth, earning a soft whine from your throat that you didn’t mean to sound so desperate. Your fists curl around the material of his hoodie, pulling Megumi impossibly closer.

Megumi’s free hand drops from your waist to your hip, squeezing your skin. His other hand drops from your head to curl over your hips and grope your ass. Both of his hands cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh and earning a soft mewl from your throat.

“You sound so pretty, baby,” Megumi mutters against your lips, his messy hair tickling your forehead. You want to moan and whine at the nickname but instead you kiss him again.

You’ve got the hang of this kissing thing but you still have no fucking idea where to put your hands without making him uncomfortable– as if his hands aren’t groping your ass.

Megumi pulls away slightly breathless, “you wanna stop?”

“No,” you shake your head quickly, “no, I don’t wanna stop.”

Megumi grins, kissing your cheek, “okay, sweet girl.”

Megumi leads you to his bedroom, his hand never leaving yours and your other hand never letting go of his hoodie sleeve. He pushes his bedroom door open, his lips on your instantly as he backs you up to his bed. The backs of your thighs hit his mattress and you fall backward, bringing Megumi with you. 

Megumi chuckles softly against your lips before kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the underside of your jaw, then your neck. His hand paws at the bottom hem of your sweater, his fingers slipping underneath to ghost over the skin of your bare tummy. 

“M’gonna take it off, okay?” 

You nod sheepishly, “okay.”

“You tell me if you want me to stop,” he breathes.

“I will, Gumi,” you reply with a whisper, kissing the tip of his nose.

Megumi grins affectionately before his hands grip the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up slightly. Your breath hitches in your throat and he slowly pulls your sweater upward and over your tits. You’re not wearing a shirt, just a lacy black bra, just like the one he got a peek of at the party.

“Pretty,” Megumi murmurs, pressing a kiss to your chest, right between your collarbones. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him against your hot skin as he peppers kisses across your chest, finally pulling your sweater over your head and tossing it aside. You’re left in your pretty bra and a short little skirt that finished above your mid thigh. 

God how he wants to bite and suck on your pretty plush thighs.

His hand snakes underneath you, fingers fiddling with your bra clasp at your back. Your breathing quickens and Megumi kisses your cheek, “s’okay… m’here.”

He unclasps your bra, the cups loosening around your tits and the straps going slack on your shoulders. His fingers ghost over your shoulder as he pulls the strap down your shoulder, pressing soft kisses in his wake.

“C-Can you go faster?” You whine, your voice quiet.

Megumi chuckles, lifting his head to peer up at you, pupils blown wide, “am I going to slow for you, pretty girl?”

You bite your lip, “mhm.”

Megumi lifts his thigh, pressing it between your legs to where you desperately want him. You whine when he presses his strong thigh against your clothed heat, your skirt bunching up at your waist. Your skin feels hot and you feel a wetness pooling in your panties, making your face flush with embarrassment at your own neediness.

“I’ve thought about this,” Megumi whispers, pulling your bra cup down, his large hand cupping your plush breast. “A lot.”

You moan softly, your nipples hardening under the cold chill of the air in his room.

“Thought about what you’d sound like.”

He lowers his head slightly, pressing long, wet kisses to your pretty nipples. Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him down and forcing him to nip and suck at the soft skin.

“Thought about how you’d look.”

You roll your hips involuntarily against his strong thigh, feeling the friction against your poor little clit. You moan underneath him, your heart racing as he lowers his head to kiss down your tummy to the hem of your skirt.

“Thought about how you’d taste.”

You suddenly let out a surprised gasp when Megumi pulls your lower body off the bed, your hands curling into his bedsheets for support. You peer down at him, your heart in your throat at the sight of Megumi between your legs, his fingers curling underneath the waistband of your skirt and pulling.

He drops the material on the floor, his large hands curling underneath your thighs and pulling them apart, “w-wait, Gumi.”

He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, “what is it, princess?”

“W-What are you doing?”

Megumi smiles against the inside of your thigh, “m’gonna eat your pretty pussy.”

Your hands curl into the sheets and you feel a glob of arousal seep from your cunt. If this is how fucked up he gets you just from kissing you, how the hell are you going to hold up with his tongue inside you?

“You okay with that?”

You nod your head quickly without thinking, a thin sheen of sweat already coating your skin. “P-Please–”

Megumi chuckles softly at how damn cute you are, his fingers hooking under the sides of your panties, pulling them down your legs. They’re covered in your arousal, your pretty pussy glistening under the warm glow of the setting sun.

God he wishes he could take a picture.

“G-Gumi?” You peer down at him, “s-stop staring.”

Megumi pulls your thighs over his shoulders, his hair tickling the insides of your spread legs, “sorry, sweet girl, she’s just s’pretty.”

You let out an involuntary moan when he presses a kiss to your swollen clit, the sudden attention sending a jolt of pleasure through your tummy. You want to slam your thighs closed, your body desperate for friction. 

“Don’t tease me,” you whine. “Please–”

Megumi’s fingers curl into your thighs, pulling them apart further and forcing your pussy lips open to press the flat of his tongue against your awaiting clit. 

“M-Megumi–”

You throw your head back against the bed, one of your hands pressing against the back of his head, forcing him closer to your pussy. No one has ever touched you like this, no one has ever put their mouth on you, no one has ever seen your pretty pussy and you couldn’t think of anyone better than Megumi Fushiguro to be the one to tongue-fuck you right now.

“You ever masturbated, baby?”

You whine, “a-are you teasing me or something?”

He smiles against your clit, tongue dipping down to lap up your slick, “maybe a little. I just wanna know if you’ve ever had something inside you.” His thumbs spread you open, his tongue flicking against your clit and making you whine even louder. “Shh, baby, we have neighbours.”

You don’t give a fuck right now.

“I’ve masturbated b-before,” you say after a hard huff, you feel fucking breathless.

“Oh, yeah?” Megumi presses his tongue against your little hole, lewdly slurping up the insane amount of arousal leaking from you. “You should show me.”

“No!” you whine, “so embarrassing.”

“I think it’d be hot,” the tip of his middle finger presses against your hole. “Maybe some other time.”

You cry out, hands gripping the sheets when Megumi presses the tip of his middle finger into your cunt. His fingers are thicker than yours and you can only imagine so much longer, able to press against parts of you you’ve never reached before. 

“Gumi–” you pant, “m-more.”

“More?” He raises a brow at you.

“Please, please–”

“You’re so cute.”

“Shut up!” you whimper, “js’ touch me–” Megumi can’t deny you, not when you sound so fucking gorgeous and you taste like fucking heaven. 

He presses his finger into you, twisting his hand around and curling his finger inside you. You want to cry, your eyes screwed shut and your belly burning. He fucks his finger into you slowly, his tongue lapping and sucking your clit while your thighs press against his head.

“Gonna add another one, okay, baby?”

You nod your head desperately and he smiles cheekily, pressing a second finger into you to stretch you open. You throw your head back at the delicious stretch, your slick coating Megumi’s fingers and dripping down his wrist.

Megumi feels your thighs pressing together harder and he forces your thigh down with his free hand, your knee almost hitting your chest with how he pins it down. He’s spreading you open, tongue flicking against your clit and fingers curling against your gummy walls.

“Gumi– m’gonna–” you feel your tummy burn and you’re so fucking embarrassed that you’re about to cum from just having two fingers inside you. You start to pant, hands tangling in his hair as lewd slurping and squelches fill his room.

“S’okay, baby. Cum on my mouth,” he groans against you, his cock rock hard from feeling your hips grind against his face. You might be a virgin but your body knows what it wants as you rut against his tongue and your legs shake.

Megumi suddenly shakes his head over your clit, his mouth covered in your slick and you just cum. It crashes into you like a fucking train and you whine and moan against the back of your hand as Megumi fucks his fingers into your sopping cunt, your hole spasming and clenching down on his fingers.

He scissors and curls his fingers inside you, fucking you through your orgasm and feeling a sense of pride but also getting a huge fucking ego boost that he’s the first man to ever make you cum.

Your chest is heaving up and down, your vision cloudy and your mind feeling fuzzy as you come back down from your high. Megumi pulls his fingers out of you, kissing the inside of your thigh and lapping up the mess you made all over yourself.

You sit up on your elbows, face flushed and hair dishevelled as you peer down at Megumi. You suddenly feel immensely embarrassed that he was just between your legs, his tongue flicking over your clit and his fingers deep inside you.

“Fuck, you taste better than I imagined,” Megumi licks his fingers clean while holding eye contact with you. 

You whine and flop back onto the bed, earning a soft chuckle from Megumi as he gets to his feet, attempting to find a towel or old shirt somewhere.

“Where are you going?” You ask timidly.

“M’gonna clean you up, don’t worry, I won’t go,” he replies, quickly pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“But…” your eyes flicker to the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Hm?” He follows your gaze. “Oh, m’okay, princess. It’s not about me anyway.”

“But, I want to–”

“S’okay, Y/N,” he lifts your hand, kissing your knuckles softly, “you can try some other time.”

“...Do you not want to?”

He grins, “course I want to.”

“Then let me,” you whine, pulling him closer to you. “Please.”

Megumi ponders it for a moment. He doesn’t want to frighten you and he’s so fucking scared of losing control and just bending you over and fucking your brains out. But the way you look at him with your pretty wide eyes and your hands gripping his thighs as he stands between your legs– 

How could he say no?

“You want to, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay… we’ll go slow,” he urges, petting your hair gently. 

You’re so fucking eager to please him that it makes him weak. Your post-orgasm body is shaky as you reach for the zipper of his pants, your fingertips grazing against the sensitive bulge. He groans softly, hand petting your head as he lets you figure it out, slowly unzipping his pants and pulling them down a little.

There’s a dark wet patch on his boxers, he’s so fucking turned on by your pretty sounds and your intoxicating taste that his cock is leaking and begging for attention.

“S’big,” you whisper, eyes widening.

And he hasn’t even pulled his cock out of his boxers.

He chuckles, “you flatter me, pretty.”

“N-No, really,” your pretty eyes meet his. “Is it gonna fit in my mouth?”

Holy fucking shit. 

He was thinking you were just going to give him a handjob and now you’re asking if he can fit in your mouth.

Megumi runs a hand through his hair, “fuck you drive me crazy.”

“I-I thought you wanted me to–”

“Baby. You can do whatever you want to me.”

Your eyes blow wide and you just about sparkle with anticipation, “then… can I suck your dick?”

Someone kill him and put him to rest because you’re about to be the death of him.

“Fuck yeah you can, baby.”

Megumi has to help you pull his cock from his boxers and your eyes just about bulge out of your head at the size of him. He’s long and thick and the tip is a pretty pink colour. It’s heavy too, almost too heavy to hold itself up.

He sits down on the bed and you get on your knees in front of him. He strips his hoodie off, his abs flexing as he leans back on his elbows, just watching you.

You bite your lip, suddenly intimidated.

“S’okay… just take it slow.”

You nod your head before your hand wraps around the base. Megumi suddenly groans and you pull away with a fright, “s-sorry!”

“No, no, baby–” he chuckles breathily. “Js’ a lot to take in having a pretty girl with her hands on my cock.”

You look away shyly and Megumi laughs, reaching out to cup your jaw, forcing you to look back at him. He sits up, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. You taste the remains of your orgasm on his tongue, pressing your thighs together as you feel yourself become a little aroused again.

He kisses you deeper, reaching his free hand out to cup your own, guiding you toward his hard neglected cock. “You can touch me, baby.”

Your hand wraps around the base and you squeeze softly, earning a groan from your pretty roommate. He guides your hand up and down and it’s painfully fucking slow but he’s just happy to have your hands on him.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs. “Doin’ so good.”

You beam at the praise, pressing your thumb against the leaky slit of his pretty cock head. Megumi groans, leaning back on his elbows and tipping his head back. You continue the motion, eyes gleaming with pride and innocence as you just watch him fuck your hand.

His hips jerk up, his cock pulsing in your hand.

You suddenly feel the urge to press your lips to his tip and when you do, Megumi nearly cums like a fucking teenager. 

“F-Fuck,” he grunts, his hand unintentionally pulling your hair, forcing out a pretty moan from your lips. 

You take the tip in your mouth, your tongue flattening against the head. You wonder if you’re doing it right but the way Megumi groans and his hand pushes your head further down his length, you think you’re doing a pretty good job.

“Such a good girl,” Megumi sighs, “feels s’good.”

You moan at the praise, taking a little more of his length down your throat. Your hands are squeezing his thighs, nails scraping against the taut skin and Megumi is doing everything in his power to not fuck his cock down your throat.

You start to drool, saliva slipping down your chin and coating his pretty cock. You suddenly gag on his cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat. 

“F-Fuck,” Megumi feels his cock twitch at the cute fucking sounds you’re making. Your eyes are glassy, and you’ve got drool dripping down your chin and your cheeks are flushed so pretty. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

You pump the base of his cock, your tongue clumsily swirling around his tip, eyes glued to him as you watch for his reactions. Megumi suddenly sucks in a breath and pulls your mouth off his tip with a quiet pop! quickly pumping his cock.

Hot ropes of sticky cum spill across your lips and face, Megumi tipping his head back with a deep groan, squeezing the base of his cock as it twitches and jumps.

“Fuck– you sure you’ve never sucked dick before– Oh, fuck.”

Megumi’s eyes dilate at the sight of his cum painting your pretty little face, your fingers swiping at the ropes of cum before you push them into your mouth, tasting him. 

“I do good?”

Megumi laughs breathlessly, “you did so good, baby girl.”

Megumi is quick to clean you up, using an old shirt to wipe the cum off your face while you sit there all pretty on your knees in front of him. He presses kisses to your face and your hair before pulling you into bed beside him, his fingertips tracing over your shoulder as you lay your head on his chest.

“You mean what you said?”

“Hm?”

“You like me?” You ask sweetly, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him.

Megumi sits up a bit, “I like-like you.”

“Wow. That’s a big call, Fushiguro.”

Megumi chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “remember it’s Megumi.”

“Gumi?”

“I like that too.”

“Mm, Megs?”

“Don’t push it.”

You giggle softly, curling into his side with a wide smile.

Megumi takes you to work and campus every day after that night, his hand always in yours when he walks you to class and he likes to pretend it annoys him how you wrap your hand around his arm and how you squeal his name when you see him after class.

When in reality, Megumi couldn’t be happier. In a twisted way, he’s glad you asked him if he hated you, because he was able to summon the courage to tell you the truth.

That he didn’t hate you. Not even a little.

author's note: the way i been pulling all nighters for DAYS. i was about to kill these two I TELL YOU JUST MAKE OUT PLS I CANT–

taglist: @starpachinko @2ukika @sukunabish @somethinglikero @wannabewolf @milliex01x @princessa143 @hrithi11 @katsukita69 @slayzzz @arcanefeelings @shirabu-k @izzzzzzig @zah2890 @evergumi @aerareads @flashilyquinn @raedollsstuff @happylildeath @anormieee @l1v1ngzomb1e @kimkimoruo @sunnyf4lls @saekolust @kalulakunundrum @xastoriaaurax @feliaeae @sleepyxzn @mahazsine

[seumyo]

rainy mornings with husband!bakugou

Bakugou didn’t like the rain. That was a fact.

But the thing about rain is that it’s inevitable, something that only nature has control over (and additionally the particular people who have rain-based Quirks).

The rain was steady, soft against the windows like a lullaby. It wasn’t a storm, he notes, just a lazy morning drizzle that blurred the glass and painted the world in cool grays and muted greens.

He stood at the stove, barefoot, wearing loose black sweats and one of your hoodies—oversized on you but fitting snug on him (he remembered the sheer happiness you had when he told you your parcel finally arrived). The sleeves were a little too short, exposing his forearms as he stirred a pan of scrambled eggs with slow, unhurried movements.

He wasn’t in a rush, and for once, there wasn’t any tension in his shoulders. Thank god his schedule was getting lighter these days, especially as Japan is now entering a much colder rainy season this year.

Behind him, you were curled up on the couch, legs tucked under you, a throw blanket tossed lazily over your lap. You hadn’t bothered changing out of your pajama shirt yet—one of his old Dynamight shirts (which he was sure was sold at a golden price nowadays since it was one of the first ones released), faded from too many washes. You had your tablet propped on your knee, aimlessly scrolling through something, one hand cradling a mug of still-steaming tea.

He glanced over his shoulder, watching your thumb flick across the screen, your brows furrowed just the tiniest bit in that way that always made him want to kiss it away.

Damn marriage making him soft.

Having him thinking of kissing your worries away and whatnot.

“You ready to eat?” His voice was low, rough with sleep still lingering around the edges, though he’d been up for a bit now. It was the kind of morning that made him feel stress-free again—quiet, warm, you.

You didn’t even look up. “Mm… not yet. Gimme ten more minutes.”

Bakugou snorted, scooping the eggs onto a plate with a quiet clink of the spatula. “You said that ten minutes ago.”

“I did not,” you murmured, still distracted. “I said that fifteen minutes ago.”

“You callin’ me a liar?”

“...Nossir.” No, Sir.

“Uh huh.”

He turned off the burner and walked over to you, crossing the room with his usual quiet authority. You didn’t flinch when he sat down next to you and didn’t look up as he leaned in to press his lips to your temple. You just shifted slightly, making room for him as if it were the most natural thing in the world—which, honestly, it was.

Because if you hadn’t seen all of him by now—

Ahem, then casual intimacy would be a bit awkward when you’re 4 years into your marriage.

“You’re not even really lookin’ at anything,” he muttered, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I’m looking at furniture,” you replied, lifting the tablet slightly for him to see. “For the entryway. I found this bench with drawers under it. It’s soo cute.”

He peered at it, expression blank. “It’s a bench.”

You gave a dramatic sigh. Here we go.

“It’s a functional bench. With storage. It’s called multi-purpose, Katsuki.”

“Yeah? Looks like a trip hazard to me,” he said, lips twitching at the corners.

You gave him a lazy elbow in the side, just enough pressure to make him grunt but not enough to move him. “You’d survive.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I busted my ass ‘cause of somethin’ you brought into the house,” he said, smirking now, eyes flicking down to the tiny mountain of throw pillows on the floor that had been there since you reorganized the couch again last week. “You and your ‘aesthetic.’”

You finally looked away from your screen, giving him an unimpressed look. That expression—one he knew all too well—is so fucking cute it makes his chest hurt.

“You like the aesthetic when it’s candles and not vanilla-scented ones and have things that are either black or white instead of having color. What’re we trying to have here? A monochrome house?”

“Didn’t say I didn’t like it,” he said, and kissed your cheek again, slower this time. “Just sayin’… you got a way of makin’ this place feel lived in. That’s all.”

That made you pause. You turned your head just slightly, enough to meet his eyes, your features softened, and your smile became a little cheeky. “That’s sweet of you. I knew I had that effect on you.”

He shrugged, embarrassed now, and tried to cover it up by reaching for your tea. “This still warm?”

“Get your own,” you said without bite, holding it out of reach.

He let out a soft huff and leaned into your space more, nose brushing against your jaw. Because if anything, the husband version of Bakugou Katsuki—your husband Bakugou Katsuki—doesn’t have a concept of personal space during mornings.

“You really gonna deny your husband a sip? Really? When I prepared this for you?”

“You’re gonna drink half of it.”

“I will if you keep holdin’ it hostage,” he threatened, and you laughed—an actual, sleepy laugh—and finally let him take the mug. He took a sip, then handed it back with a little grunt of satisfaction. “Uh huh. Made it right today.”

“I make it better.”

“You put too much honey in it sometimes.”

“I like it sweet.”

“I like you sweet,” he said under his breath, then added, “Not your damn tea. That’s a health hazard at some point, dummy.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned over and bumped your forehead against his. He stayed there for a beat, closing his eyes as he let the closeness sink in. Outside, the rain kept falling, and the whole apartment smelled like eggs, toast, and the faint vanilla candle you lit sometime before he got out of bed.

“You gonna eat with me or what?” he murmured against your skin.

“In a bit,” you said again. “You’re warm. And it’s raining. I don’t wanna move yet.”

He made a low sound in his throat, something between a hum and a sigh, and settled in beside you, one arm looping behind your shoulders, the other resting on the blanket over your legs.

“This your excuse to make me feed you like last time?”

You smiled, sleep still tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe. That’s what husbands are for, right? Serving their spouses?”

“You’re a pain.”

“And you love me—unless you don’t. Then I’ll have you know I will be taking the washing machine with me; that one’s the most expensive piece of furniture we have.”

Bakugou snorted. “Really?” he says. “But fuckin’ right I do,” he added, voice low and reverent now. “I love you ‘til the sun fucking explodes, and even after.”

...

“That was poetic, hun. You should’ve written that for our vows.”

“... I’m regrettin’ that I forgot.”

You sat in silence for a while; the only sounds were the rain, the occasional tap of your fingernail on the screen, and the soft buzz of the world going on without them. Bakugou didn’t mind the quiet—not with you, at least.

You made it feel full instead of awkward.

Safe.

Eventually, you sighed and leaned into his side, closing the tablet and letting it slip onto the couch cushion beside you. “Okay,” you murmured. “Maybe I’m ready now. Because I don’t like cold eggs.”

He kissed the top of your head. “Yeah?”

You nodded, eyes half-closed. “But only if you bring it over here. Then we could continue watching that romance drama we forgot to finish because you went to Spain.”

Bakugou huffed, standing up with a stretch. “You’re spoiled.”

“You spoil me.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder as he walked back to the kitchen. “And don’t you forget it.”

He brought over the plates a minute later—eggs, toast, and a little variety of fruits because you liked it when he tried to be ‘balanced.’ He handed you the fork and watched as you thanked him and lazily started to eat, your movements slow, like your brain still hadn’t fully woken up.

He sat back down beside you, one knee brushing against yours under the blanket, and started eating his food, satisfied by the small sounds you made with each bite. It wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t flashy. But it was theirs—yours.

A rainy morning, warm food, the person he loved within arm’s reach—Bakugou couldn’t have asked for anything better.

So yeah, Bakugou might not like the rain, but he likes spending it with you.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: KISS & MAKE UP

✩ ‧ ˚. streamer!au: after the breakup, you two decide to make up in the traditional way—by having sex! NSFW

contents: fem!reader. oral (f. recieving), p –> v, teasing, praise, hair pulling (m. recieving), missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, use of pet names (too many to list here). not proofread bc you couldn't pay me to read all this again. 2.5k words. read this fic beforehand for better understanding of the context, but you don't have to.

author's note: tumblr hates me and that's why the banner quality's trash. if u wanna see the details, click here. anyways the streamer!gojo smut has finally arrived, tagging @satorena @screampied @cultrise, enjoyyy ;)

“did you tell them we’re back together?”

satoru nods in response to your question, plopping down on the couch next to you. he's spent the last hour chatting with his stream, and eventually he broke the news that you and him were back together after the breakup.

“yeah, i did,” he confirms, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. your hands automatically move to his hair and you thread your fingers through the soft white strands, pausing after a couple seconds to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

a week ago, you and satoru had an admittedly messy breakup—not messy in the sense that it got toxic or dramatic, but messy in the way that it could’ve easily been avoided. it wasn’t that big of a deal, but thankfully, you and satoru resolved your misunderstanding within a relatively short time.

since then, things have been a little different—satoru’s been taking a break from streaming, which gave him move time to spend with you and away from his thousands of fans. it was his suggestion, and not surprisingly, it worked. but all good things have to come to an end, and your “honeymoon” away from satoru’s stream seems to be coming to a close.

“something smells good,” satoru notes, lifting his head and glancing at the kitchen. “wait, is that ramen?” your boyfriend gasps, eyes rounding as he looks at you hopefully. 

“yeah, you said you were craving it, so i made some,” you reply with a smile, untangling yourself from his arms and walking over to the kitchen. satoru blows you a flurry of kisses that you see out of the corner of your eye as you check on the ramen, which looks pretty much done.

“y’know, i still haven’t forgiven you for the shit you pulled last week,” you say dryly, turning off the stove and draining the water from the ramen into your sink. the steam rises up as the boiling water slips down into the drain, clouding your face for a moment before it dissipates into thin air. 

“...does that mean i don’t get to eat that ramen?” satoru asks tentatively, a nervous smile on his lips as you empty a packet of flavored powder into the ramen. you shoot him a look and raise an eyebrow, turning back to the stove to hide your smile.

“maybe, maybe not,” you reply coyly, not wanting to give in too soon.

“boo, you whore.”

you roll your eyes and divide the ramen into two bowls, one for you and one for your boyfriend. “you’re lucky i’m too nice to let you starve, regina,” you say pointedly, walking back over to the couch and handing one of the bowls to him, which satoru takes with both hands—a habit from his childhood that never went away. “otherwise you’d be—”

satoru cuts you off by poking your lips with his chopsticks, steaming hot ramen wrapped around them. you reluctantly open your mouth and let him feed you, smiling when he seals the bite with a kiss. 

“best girlfriend ever,” satoru proclaims when he pulls away, a lazy smile playing on his lips. his soft blue eyes study your own, observing your unusually guarded expression and frowning.

“how many times do i gotta apologize for my bullshit before you stop making that face at me?” he grumbles, twirling his chopsticks in his bowl and taking a bite of the ramen. it’s cute how satoru’s face lights up at the taste, and it’s even cuter how his eyes round at you in awe when he takes another bite. “i didn’t know instant ramen could be this good,” he muses, licking any lingering flavor off of his lips.

“very funny, satoru,” you laugh, swirling your chopsticks around the broth and watching the rest of the steam rise from your bowl. “and to answer your question, i don’t really know.”

satoru tilts his head and takes a sip of his water, ice clinking against the side of the glass. when you respond to his question, he pauses and tilts his head in confusion. “...wait, what does that mean?”

you think for a second, choosing your words carefully. “i’m not sure how long it’ll take until we’re back to… normal,” you say cautiously. in all honesty, you weren’t that pissed off at him—you never were. but the fact that satoru was so ready to throw your relationship away over something as small as that was upsetting, to say the least. and you weren’t entirely sure it wouldn’t happen again.

satoru looks at you thoughtfully, more serious than you’ve seen him in a while. you can almost see the gears turning in his head before he replies. “any idea how i can make it up to you?”

you shrug, swallowing another bite of ramen before you meet his eyes. “you tell me. actions speak louder than words.”

your boyfriend drops his chopsticks, letting them clatter around in the bowl before he stands up. he extends a hand to you, a determined glint in his eye. “then lemme prove it to you.”

“satoru, you can’t bribe me with sex.”

“that’s not all i’ll be doing, sweetheart. trust me.”

and that’s how you ended up in his room, hands tangled in satoru’s soft white hair as he eats you out. his tongue laps at your cunt with quick, kitten-like strokes, and he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh. “feels s’good, satoru,” you breathe, involuntarily tugging on his hair and dragging out a groan from his lips. “sorry—”

“don’t apologize,” satoru mumbles in reply, nose brushing against your dripping thighs as his tongue slips past your folds and goes in deeper. he looks up and locks eyes with you, unable to resist smiling at the way your legs tremble around him. “aw, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he murmurs, flicking his tongue in and out of your cunt with a grin. “and i’m the one who should be—fuck, you’re gorgeous—apologizing.”

this isn’t the first time satoru’s eaten you out, but it feels like it every single time—somehow, his tongue has a talent of rendering you unable to focus on anything else but him. you grind your hips against satoru’s face, eyes squinted shut as your boyfriend flattens his tongue before lapping your slick up with cloudy eyes. “shit, i don’t know what i’d be without you,” he murmurs, voice low and steady—and something about his tone makes you certain he’s being completely honest with you.

“you’re so—fuck, satoru, i’m gonna cum,” you breathe, back automatically arching when satoru’s tongue reaches that spot inside you. he laughs, and the vibration of the soft sound against your puffy, sensitive cunt almost makes your legs give out—but thankfully, satoru’s hands are secured around your thighs, holding you in place. “‘toru, i can’t—”

“yeah, y’can, just relax that pretty pussy for me,” he cooes, licking up the slick dripping down his chin. “c’mon, you’re doing so good f’me, keep going, baby.” and just like that, his tongue slips out of your cunt and he lets you cum—the sheer force of your orgasm hits you like a truck, and your hips roll against satoru’s face in a choppy rhythm as you desperately ride it out, hands gripping and accidentally yanking his hair.

you stutter out his name a couple more times, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of satoru’s mouth on your sensitive, gushing pussy. your boyfriend praises you the whole way, gently murmuring soft words about how sweet you are for letting him taste you, even while your relationship was rocky. when your voice steadies enough for satoru to make out what you’re begging him to do, he’s not at all surprised to hear you plea for him to fuck you—so stands up and tugs you down onto his bed, hand intertwined with yours as he pulls the sheets over your bodies. 

you squeeze satoru’s hand and lean in to kiss him, chest still heaving from your earlier orgasm. naturally, you miss his lips and end up kissing the side of his face, which is flushed bright red from the way his body reacts to the taste of your pussy. “don’t ever leave me like that again,” you whisper, tears pricking at your eyes for some reason—maybe it’s the lovesick way satoru looks at you, or maybe it’s the way he’s holding onto you like there’s no place he’d rather be.

“i won’t,” satoru promises, pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead and pulling your head into his chest. his lips touch the top of your head as he murmurs, “and if i do, shoot me.” it sounds like a joke, but you both know that he’s dead serious.

“good thing i won’t have to do that,” you say with a soft giggle. your smile is heart-achingly familiar to satoru, and it feels like home—and that’s the realization that has him stripping off what little clothing the two of you still have on before he climbs on top of you. 

satoru touches the tip of his dick to your pussy, waiting for your nod to allow him to go in all the way. after a second, you dip your chin and trail your fingers down satoru’s jaw, grabbing his chin and pulling him down into another kiss. his lips linger for a couple seconds, still-minty breath tickling your face, before he pulls away. satoru slowly lowers his hips and nudges his dick inside of your desperate cunt, hands resting on either side of you.

even though it’s only been a little over a week since you last had sex with satoru, it feels like it’s been forever—your boyfriend curses when he feels how tight you are, mumbling something about missing you “so fucking much” as he goes in deeper and deeper. it hurts a little at first, but you quickly get used to the feeling of him inside of you. 

“fuckin’ hell, i’m never gonna get tired of this,” satoru breathes, dipping his head and kissing your collarbone. a single drop of sweat drips down the side of his face as he watches you squirm, eyes soft and endearing as you do so. he starts rolling his hips back and forth against you to loosen you up a little, dragging out soft moans from you as he does so. 

“yeah, you better not,” you mutter, tilting your head back and drawing in a long breath of air. you can’t remember the last time you felt this good—maybe it was the last time satoru fucked you. “satoru, y’re going so slow—”

your boyfriend cuts you off with a particularly harsh thrust, making your body jolt against his mattress. satoru lifts his head and looks you in the eye, a breathy laugh slipping out of him when he sees the pout on your lips. “the fuck you mean, i’m going slow? you want me to tear you apart? silly girl,” he tuts, back to his usual cocky self. he shakes his head and goes deep enough in you to force you to arch your back, starting to grin at the way you paw at his chest. “always so selfish, aren’t you?” he cooes, dipping his head and giving you a sloppy kiss on the forehead. “but you’re always—so—fuckin’—sweet,” satoru whispers, punctuating each word with a thrust hard enough for you to moan out his name more times than you can count.

“you’re the selfish one,” you mumble, lips trembling enough to muffle your voice. satoru huffs out a sigh and kisses your mouth, teeth gently brushing against your bottom lip. “you broke up with me for no reason,” you continue, tears pricking at your eyes again. “you think i’m gonna forgive you this fast?” 

satoru shakes his head again and caresses the side of your face. “will you?” he asks, slowing his pace enough for you to notice. you mutter something about him edging you on purpose, to which satoru shushes you and repeats his question.

“maybe.”

“you gotta stop giving me maybe’s, baby—y’re drivin’ me crazy here.”

in the past week, satoru’s done so much for you, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. on the day after your breakup, he picked you up from your house and took you for a picnic entirely curated by him. on the second day, he made you breakfast, lunch and dinner—it wasn’t the best food you ever had, but it was definitely the most memorable (in more ways than one). on the third day, he took you out to your favorite amusement park and did everything he could to make you smile—by then, you had pretty much forgiven him, and the giant teddy bear he dropped in your bedroom only made you love him more. the rest of the days were filled with longing glances and little gifts left around your house, which only helped him earn more and more of you back.

so, you figure that satoru deserves what comes next.

“okay,” you whisper. 

satoru’s eyes widen and he hesitates before he tentatively asks, “does this mean—”

you don’t let him finish his question, instead grabbing his face and tugging him down into a full kiss. he lets out a soft hm? in surprise, but kisses you back more than gratefully. “c’mon, make me cum,” you breathe when he finally pulls away. satoru nods dazedly and mouths “i love you” before he goes back in you, pace faster than before.

one of his hands snakes down to your waist, holding it in pace while the other caresses your face. you gaze up at him with a soft smile, eyes fluttering open and closed every time his dick hits your sweet spot—which is more times than your body can handle, but you welcome the feeling of him deep inside of you. after barely a couple thrusts, a coil forms in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter with each movement of satoru’s hips. 

satoru laughs, chest heaving as he grins down at you cheekily. “i knew you’d forgive me,” he murmurs, pinching your cheek affectionately. “m’ so sorry—”

“shut up and fuck me,” you interrupt, tongue starting to loll out of your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming all over satoru’s dick. 

“as you wish, princess.”

satoru’s breathing slowly changes, becoming more choppy and uneven the closer you watch him get to his high—it’s so, so close for both of you, and when it comes, it takes over both of your minds like a drug. satoru curses and groans out your name, thrusts growing sloppy as he desperately rides out his orgasm. cum shoots out from his dick and coats the inside of your cunt white, dripping out once you physically can’t take any more.

you run your hands all over satoru’s body, clawing and gripping at every inch of skin you can latch onto—satoru’s always been your anchor, and you hope that he always will be. one of his hands leaves the side of your face and tangles with your fingers, holding it down against the mattress as he promises to never screw you over like that again, and you’re only too welcoming to him and his words as you squirt all over his dick. “fuck, satoru—”

he lifts his eyes and meets your own, and unlike you, his vision is clearer than ever. “shoot me if i ever leave you again, baby. i’m serious.”

you raise a shaky hand and touch the side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you murmur, “i know i won’t have to.”

[woniedarlin]

Shared Custody

Pairing: Ex! Jungwon x reader

Synopsis: Breaking up with Jungwon was one thing. But agreeing to co-parent a dog afterward? That was how you ended up in the weirdest post-breakup situation ever. Because what kind of exes still see each other at precisely 10 a.m?

You broke up. You’re sure of it. So why does it feel like your relationship never ended? Just… got a schedule and a leash?

Author's note: Another fic has been sitting in the drafts for too long. I finally decided to share it with you all. Hope you enjoy it! Happy reading!

Warnings: This story contains equal parts fluff and angst, with a dash of unresolved feelings, awkward ex moments, and a dog that might steal the spotlight. Reader discretion is advised! 🐾

Permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n @layzfy @firstclassjaylee @ijustwannareadstuff20

Here’s the thing no one tells you about breakups:

When you two bought a dog together while you were still dating, breaking up isn’t just about parting ways with a person. You get partial custody of an emotional support furball with no idea why mom and dad stopped living together. The breakup was mutual. There was no shouting, no ugly crying, no one storming out at 2 a.m. with a suitcase and a dramatic one-liner.

It was a quiet and tired conversation on the couch. Some nods. A few long silences. And Maeumi, curled up between you, unaware that his life was about to get complicated.

You probably should’ve fought over him. Or at least discussed like rational adults. Instead, you both just… didn’t let go. Now, you set schedules like divorced parents. Only with more awkward small talk and a lot of pretending it’s totally normal to see your ex every other day at exactly 10:00 a.m.

It started with meetups. Hand off the leash, say a polite hello, smile as if it doesn’t sting anymore. Then it became coffee afterwards. Then breakfast “because he looks hungry and I’m already here anyway.”

Then, last weekend, Maeumi ate an entire bag of chips and got sick all over Jungwon’s living room, which somehow led to you arguing about brand-name kibble.

“You were the one who said he needed variety!”

“Variety doesn’t mean junk food!”

“They were organic!”

“He threw up on my socks, (name).”

And you’re not proud of it, but you laughed. A little too hard. Then Jungwon laughed, and it felt like nothing had changed for a moment.

But everything had.

Now, you’re waiting for Jungwon in the usual meeting spot, Maeumi’s leash wrapped loosely around your wrist as he trots in excited little circles. Jungwon’s late. Not by much, just five minutes. Enough to make you wonder if he’s okay. Enough to make you check your phone. He shows up a minute later, hair a bit messy, holding two coffees. “Sorry,” he says. “I stopped by that place you like. The one with the stupid tiny straws.”

You take the cup without a word.

Maeumi barks, happy as ever, tail wagging because it was the best part of his week. Seeing his divorced parents together! ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა

“Did he eat?” Jungwon asks.

You replied. “Yeah. But he thinks spinning in a circle gets him more food now.”

Jungwon sighs. “You didn’t.”

You shrug. “It was funny. He almost knocked over my lamp trying it this morning.”

There was a slight pause before, “He seemed to miss you a lot when he was with me last week. A good thing he has spent with you these past few days.” Jungwon says, nudging Maeumi’s head.

You nod, eyes on your coffee cup. “I missed him too.”

You’re not sure which of them you’re talking about.

🍎

Maeumi planted his butt on the floor and refused to move. You tugged the leash gently. “Come on, it’s Dad’s turn.” Maeumi looked at you. Then looked at Jungwon. Then flopped onto his side. You sighed. “He’s being a brat again.”

Jungwon crouched beside you, holding out a treat from his pocket. “Maeumi, let’s not do this today.”

Maeumi sniffed the treat, stood up halfway, then turned around and pressed himself against your leg.

You and Jungwon exchanged a look.

“I think he’s made his choice,” you said.

“It’s not even a choice. It’s supposed to be my weekend.”

“You tell him that.”

Jungwon sighed and looked down at Maeumi, who was now rolling over, belly up, smug as ever. “You’re a traitor. You know that?”

Maeumi sneezed in response.

Eventually, after five minutes of bargaining and light bribery, Jungwon stepped inside your apartment to get him moving. One minute turned into five. Then ten. Now you were both sitting on the couch, a lukewarm mug of tea in his hands, Maeumi curled between you like a peace treaty in dog form. “You know,” you said, watching as Maeumi kicked his leg in his sleep, “he wasn’t like this when we first got him.”

“Nope,” Jungwon muttered. “He used to listen to me. Now he acts like he pays rent.”

“That’s your influence.”

He shot you a look. “My influence? You’re the one who started giving him tiny portions of your dinner because he’s a spoiled prince.”

You shrugged and grinned. “He deserves nice things.”

“He eats better than me.”

Jungwon glanced at you for too long, then looked away and sipped his tea.

You didn’t notice.

Well, yeah, you did, but you were pretending not to.

Jungwon leaned back a little. Then he looked toward the kitchen. And then he saw it. The mug. The one he bought for your birthday two years ago. You loved it to the point that you used it daily while you two were still dating. He nodded toward the cupboard. “Didn’t think you still had that.”

You glanced over. “Huh? Oh. Yeah.”

He didn’t say anything else, but his eyes stayed on it. That dumb, ceramic memory sitting there as if it had every right to exist in a post-breakup world.

You added, “It’s a good mug.”

Jungwon barely smiled. “Yeah. Real high quality.”

You didn’t reply.

He looked back at Maeumi, who was still fast asleep between you, snoring lightly. “I keep one of your spoons in my drawer,” Jungwon said suddenly.

Your head turned. “What?”

“You left it after that one trip. The one where we bought those instant noodles that tasted like cardboard.”

“Oh. Right.” You stared ahead. “That was a good weekend.”

“It rained.”

“I like rain.”

You both nodded and pretended the conversation didn’t sting a little.

Maeumi snored louder as if he were trying to cover the silence.

🍎

Your phone buzzed at 11:42 p.m.

You were half-asleep. Maeumi had gone home with Jungwon hours ago, but the apartment still felt…full.

You grabbed your phone.

Jungwon [11:42 PM]

Thanks for taking care of him this week. He seemed extra happy. When he saw you, his tail wagged about ten times per second.

You smiled without meaning to, your thumb hovering over the keyboard to send a quick "anytime" or maybe a "he missed you too."

But another message came in before you could type.

Jungwon [11:43 PM]

You’re still the easiest person to talk to.

You stared at the screen.

You didn’t know what to say. Or perhaps you did, and that was the problem.

So you… didn’t reply.

🍎

Jungwon sat on the curb's edge, nursing a canned coffee. Sunghoon was sipping from his drink, watching him spiral in silence. “I’m losing it,” Jungwon finally said. “She still knows how I take my coffee. Didn’t even ask.”

Sunghoon glanced over. “She made it the same way she used to? Back when you two were together?”

Jungwon nodded slowly. “Exactly like that.”

“And you’re upset because…?”

“I don’t know,” Jungwon shaked his head. “She laughs at my jokes the same way. She still says ‘bless you’ when I fake sneeze for attention. And today, I saw the mug I got for her birthday two years ago, sitting in her cupboard like it never left.”

“Maybe it’s just a good mug?” Sunghoon offered.

Jungwon stared at him. “That mug has a whale on it saying ‘whale you be mine.’ It wasn’t just a mug.”

Sunghoon choked on his drink and wiped his mouth. “Okay, yeah, that’s tragic.”

“And she still wears my hoodie,” Jungwon added. “She likes that hoodie.”

Sunghoon crossed his arms. “So, what’s the plan? Gonna ask for the hoodie back and confess your undying love in the same breath?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I thought I was over her. I thought we were fine being exes who raise a dog together.” Jungwon let out a long sigh and tilted his head back. “I don’t know when it started feeling like this again.”

Sunghoon crumpled his empty drink can and tossed it into the bin beside them. “You mean the part where you show up with her favorite foods, sit on her couch like you never left, and keep pretending Maeumi’s the only reason you’re still hanging around?”

Jungwon looked at Sunghoon. “…Okay, rude. But not wrong.”

“Exactly. Look, man.” Sunghoon turned to face him fully now. “You two broke up. Sure. But you’re still texting her late at night, still wearing the cologne she once said smelled nice, and still looking at her like she’s the only person in the room.”

Jungwon groaned. “She’s just being nice. She always was.”

Sunghoon scoffed. “No one’s that nice, bro. She has your hoodie. She made you pancakes last week. You said she cut the strawberries the way you like them.”

“She always cuts the ends-”

“Exactly.” Sunghoon gave him a look. “At this point, you’re not just co-parenting a dog. You’re toeing the line of a romcom reboot.” He added, “Seriously, who even does this? Shared custody over a dog? With your ex? This is the weirdest post-breakup dynamic I’ve ever seen.”

Jungwon didn’t even deny it. He muttered, “…Yeah, but it’s kind of working.”

Sunghoon nodded solemnly. “You’re doomed.”

Jungwon groaned. “I think I’m accidentally falling in love with her again.”

“No such thing as accidental. You just never stopped.”

🍎

Maeumi wasn’t himself. You noticed it the moment he refused his dinner. He moved slowly, dragging his paws across the floor, and his eyes looked distant. Something was off. He usually had a healthy appetite, but tonight, nothing. You knelt beside him, gently rubbing his back. “Hey, Maeumi, what’s going on?”

He let out a weak whimper. Panic rose in your chest. You didn’t know what was wrong but knew you needed help. You grabbed your phone without thinking.

Jungwon picked up almost immediately. “What’s wrong?” His voice was concerned, even though he wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Maeumi’s sick. He won’t eat, he’s not moving much… I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Don’t worry. I’m coming over.”

It didn’t take long for him to arrive, his face tense as he crouched down to Maeumi’s level. The dog barely acknowledged him, enough to make you both nervous. “We should take him to the vet,” Jungwon said after a moment.

You nodded, already on the phone, setting up an appointment. The drive was tense, your hand gripping the door handle while Jungwon kept one hand on the wheel, his eyes between you and Maeumi.

When you finally arrived at the clinic, it was quiet. You and Jungwon waited in the sterile, cold waiting room. Maeumi was lying on your lap, his eyes closed and his breathing shallow. You rubbed his head absentmindedly, trying to calm yourself. “He’s going to be okay,” Jungwon said quietly, glancing over at you.

You nodded but didn’t answer. He touched his hand lightly near yours as he reached for the water cup beside you, and for a fleeting second, you felt his warmth. You looked at him, but his gaze was somewhere else, not meeting yours.

For a brief moment, you wondered if he missed this. If he missed you. But before you could even entertain the thought, the door to the exam room opened, and the vet emerged, pulling your focus back to Maeumi. Jungwon stood up. “He’ll be fine,” he said.

And you weren’t sure what to make of it, but for the first time since your breakup, you couldn’t ignore how much it stung to see him so close yet still so distant.

🍎

By the time you and Jungwon returned from the vet, Maeumi was already dozing off on the couch, wrapped in an old blanket and looking much more himself. The panic had eased. You stood by the kitchen, hands on the counter, watching Jungwon kneel to check Maeumi. You glanced at the time. “It’s late. You should eat before you head back.”

Jungwon looked up. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I was gonna cook anyway,” you said, opening the fridge. “Don’t expect a five-course meal, though.”

“I never did,” he said, smiling as he joined you in the kitchen. “You still burn rice, don’t you?”

You gave him a light shove with your elbow. “That happened once. And the pot betrayed me.”

Then, he washed the vegetables while you stirred the soup. It was annoyingly comfortable.

By the time dinner was done, the table was set. Jungwon set down the last dish and glanced over at you. “This… feels like we never broke up,”

You froze. Then, you replied, “We never used to have this much garlic.”

He huffed a small laugh but didn’t push it. And for the rest of dinner, neither of you brought it up again.

🍎

The dishes were washed. The leftovers are packed. Maeumi, finally feeling a bit better, had claimed his usual spot at the foot of your couch, tail thumping gently as he dozed. You stood near the sink, drying your hands on a dish towel, when Jungwon spoke from behind you. “I didn’t just miss Maeumi, you know.”

“I miss…” He let out a soft breath. “I miss all of it.”

“Do you still think about us?” he asked.

The silence was deafening. You felt him watching your back, waiting. And if the room had stayed that quiet a second longer, you would’ve said something honest. But Maeumi barked as if he’d sensed the tension rising and decided to cut it clean. You both jumped slightly. You turned with a light laugh, avoiding his gaze. “I think someone needs his water refilled.”

Jungwon didn’t press. He nodded before crouching to check Maeumi’s bowl.

Neither of you said anything else.

But the question stayed.

🍎

It happens on a night that should’ve been uneventful. A regular handoff. Maeumi is snoozing on your carpet, belly full. Jungwon’s quiet tonight. You notice it right away, but you pretend not to. You handed over Maeumi’s leash, but he didn’t take it. “You still have my hoodie,” he says.

You glance up. “What?”

He gestures vaguely toward the coat rack. “The gray one. I saw it last week. You used to sleep in it.”

You shrug. “It’s comfortable.”

His jaw tightens, but he laughs a little. “Everything I gave you is ‘comfortable,’ huh?”

You don’t answer.

“I saw your story the other day,” he adds. “Looked like a date.”

Now, you furrow your eyebrows. “Seriously?”

Jungwon runs a hand through his hair. “Forget it.”

“No,” you say. “You brought it up. So say it.”

“It’s confusing. For one moment, we laughed as if nothing had changed. Then, in the next instant, I remember how you used to fall asleep on my chest or steal all the blankets.” His voice wavers for a moment, but he pushes on. “I just can’t tell if I’m the only one stuck in the past or you’re better at pretending.”

You hesitate, then quietly. “I wish I could say I moved on, but I haven't.”

Jungwon’s shoulders drop a little. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?”

He looks down. “Because you looked like you were doing okay. And I didn’t want to make it harder if you were healing.”

“I wasn’t okay,” you say softly. “I’m still not.”

Jungwon lifts his head, his eyes locking with yours. “Neither am I.”

“I miss you,” he says. “Not just Maeumi. Not just Saturday mornings. I miss… talking to you. I miss knowing how you’re doing without having to ask.”

You look away. “Then why are we doing this?” you whisper. “Why are we acting like we’re fine?”

He lets out a breath. “Because maybe we don’t know how to be anything else.”

You nod slowly. “Yeah.”

He says, more gently this time, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start an argument.”

You shake your head. “You didn’t.”

He bends down and clips the leash onto Maeumi’s collar. The dog wags his tail, clueless, happy just to be loved by both of you. Jungwon straightens up but doesn’t turn to leave right away. He looks around your apartment. His eyes land briefly on the hoodie by the coat rack, then the familiar mug on your kitchen shelf.

“I still love you,” he says suddenly.

You freeze.

“I didn’t think I should say it. I didn’t want to make this harder. I thought… maybe it’d get easier if I stopped talking about it. But it didn’t.”

He’s not asking for anything. Not a hug. Not a kiss. Not to come back. He was standing there with his hand gently resting on Maeumi’s back because it kept him from breaking. “You laughed at one of my jokes last week,” he says softly. “And for a second, I forgot we weren’t together anymore. That’s how easy it is to fall back into you.”

You swallow hard. But he keeps going.

“I didn’t want to make you feel guilty. Or corner you. I just needed you to know. It wasn’t because I stopped feeling everything when we broke up. I was scared. And tired. And maybe I thought it’d hurt less if we ended it on our terms.”

He finally looks at you. “But it still hurts.”

Maeumi lets out a soft bark. Jungwon reaches down and scratches behind his ears; for a second, it’s just the sound of his hand brushing fur. Then he straightens again, but now you notice his eyes are a bit glassy. “I’ll take him tonight. I’ll text you tomorrow. If you need anything, or if… you want to talk more, I’m one call away.”

You nod. Slowly. You can’t get your voice to work. But your eyes say enough.

Jungwon opens the door and glances back just once. “Goodnight,” he says.

And then they’re gone.

🍎

Jungwon sits on the edge of his bed, hair slightly damp from a rushed shower. Maeumi is curled beside him, his head resting on his paw, and his eyes blinking up at him as if he understands more than a dog ever should. Jungwon takes a small breath and runs a hand through Maeumi’s fur. “You don’t have to look at me like that,” he mutters. “I didn’t yell.”

Maeumi blinks again.

“Okay,” Jungwon sighed, leaning back a little, “I maybe said too much.” He sighed. “I don’t know, Maeumi,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “She just looked at me like I was someone from a different life. That sucked.’’ Jungwon glances down and smiles sadly. “Don’t worry,” he says quietly. “Mommy and Daddy were just having a little disagreement.”

He lays back on the bed. “I’ll bring her back,” he whispers. “I swear, Maeumi. I’ll bring your mom back to me.”

Maeumi lets out a soft woof.

🍎

The rain had been pouring since morning. You didn’t expect anyone when the doorbell rang, especially not Jungwon. But there he was. Standing at your doorway, drenched from head to toe, Maeumi dripped beside him and looked more like a soggy mop than a dog. “Uh,” Jungwon offered sheepishly. “He refused to walk anywhere else.”

You said in disbelief. “You could’ve called.”

“I did. You didn’t answer.”

You step aside. “Come in before Maeumi gets mistaken for a wet sock.”

Towels came out. You wrapped one around Maeumi, rubbing his fur as he wagged his tail. Jungwon was quieter. You handed him a dry hoodie from your closet, which was his, actually. It still smelled like him, though it had sat folded for months.

He changed. You made tea. He sat across you on the couch, rubbing Maeumi’s ears absently. “I’ve been thinking,” Jungwon started, voice gentle. “We weren’t ready back then. But maybe now…”

You looked at him, guarded. “I’ve changed,” he continued. “You have too. And I don’t just mean getting better at feeding Maeumi actual food.” You smiled a little. He took it as permission. “I guess I want to say I’m sorry. For everything I didn’t say before. For not knowing how to stay when things got hard.”

You met his gaze. “I’m sorry, too. For pushing you away when I didn’t know what I needed.”

“Do you think Maeumi would be okay if we lived together again?” Jungwon asked suddenly, eyes hopeful.

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking for the dog or for you?”

A sheepish smile curved his lips. “Both.”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you leaned into his shoulder, your head resting there like it used to. “Maybe we could try again,” you said quietly. “For real this time.”

Jungwon’s hand found yours.

Maeumi snored at your feet.

And outside, the rain kept falling, washing everything clean.

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

mean!rafe slowly getting soft for reader but she realizes what sort of sick person he really is so she leaves him and now rafe is the desperate one (this would be really appreciated pretty!!!)

i loved, i loved, i loved you

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — talks of murder, stalking, manipulation

summary — after overhearing a conversation between your boyfriend and his best friend, you begin to rethink your decisions.

authors note — can be read as a standalone but is apart of the mean!rafe series. part 1 is “i just wanna be one of your girls” and part 2 is “but i’ll do anything for you.” part 3 is up! “even when you pushed me away” i’ll probably make a masterlist for this cause it’s probably going to end up turning into a series tbh so lmk if i should do that! please request more!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

“baby?” you heard him call out from the living room as the front door shut. he shrugged off his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack then followed the smell of food into the kitchen where you stood all pretty. you had a cute little pink sundress on, a white apron with a ribbon adorning the middle, and your hair was perfectly curled. “you look like a fucking dream.”

he walked over to where you were standing and pulled you into him with his big hands lightly squeezing at your hips. “thank you, rafe. i made your favorite,” you replied with a smile on your glossed lips as you rested your hands on his shoulders. “how was work?”

a sigh left his lips and his body tensed. “same thing as usual. nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” he said with a kiss to your temple. “i missed you, angel.”

you frowned slightly and hugged him. “i missed you too, rafe.” you nuzzled into his chest deeper and he held you close, taking in the delightful scent of your shampoo. you pulled away a little sooner than he would’ve liked and pulled out his designated chair at the table. “why don’t you eat before the food gets cold?”

he nodded and sat down, laying the napkin over his lap and unraveling one pack of utensils you spent your afternoon packaging up to look professional. you sat across from him in your own seat and waited for him to take his first bite before beginning to eat your own.

he wrapped up some of the noodles on his fork and placed it carefully into his mouth while you sucked in a breath and waited for his validation. “it’s amazing, sweetheart,” he praised while getting more onto his fork. “you always prepare the best, you know that.”

you smiled to yourself and glanced down at your own plate, a red blush spreading across your cheeks. you began to eat as you two sat in a comfortable silence and enjoyed the pasta.

once he finished and was getting ready to get up and place his dish in the sink, you stood and beat him to it. “i’ve got it,” you said softly. you knew how long and draining his work days were and you’d do anything to make the rest of his day better.

“thank you, angel,” he replied gratefully while standing and brushing past you with a loving squeeze to your hip. “i’ve gotta finish up some stuff on my laptop. i’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

you nodded and began to wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen. once you were all finished, you neatly folded your apron and placed it in the closet in the living room before heading up the stairs and to the office to see if he needed anything. before you could even knock, you heard a loud bang, which you assumed was his fist against his desk.

“goddamnit barry! i fuckin’ told you that i had it handled,” he spat into his phone. “i took care of him, alright? they got rid of the body, the evidence, all of it and now you’re over here screwing it up.”

the body? you placed a hand over your mouth to cover the sob threatening to slip past your lips. you pressed your ear closer to the door and waited for him to speak again.

you heard him curse under his breath and laugh angrily. “it was all going to plan and then—“ he paused. “get rid of him. do whatever you have to do, just fuckin’ get rid of him. i’ll do it myself if i have to.”

a tear hit your hand and you quickly backed away from the door and quietly walked into your shared bedroom. you immediately began throwing clothes into a bag until you heard the office door open. you shoved it under your bed and sat at the edge of it.

he came in and immediately made his way over to you, kneeling in front of you and holding your hands in his. “hey. what’s wrong, sweet girl?”

you just shook your head and faked a sad smile. “i jus’ miss you, rafe,” you lied as convincingly as you could.

he sighed. “i know, baby. and i’m sorry,” he mumbled softly. “look. i gotta go handle something really quick but we can spend the whole night together the moment i get back, ok? i promise.”

a shaky breath left your lips as you nodded and allowed him to kiss you then your forehead as he stood and made his way out towards the front door. the moment you heard it shut, you packed everything you could and sprinted out towards your car. you didn’t know how much time you had until he got back.

you were quick to disable your location on everything and turn on do not disturb before speeding off towards your parents house an hour away. you hoped it would be far enough and undisclosed so he’d never find you.

and only 30 minutes into the drive, you had 72 missed calls and 101 texts from rafe.

[allbark-no-bite]

good boy.

art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)

summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC

warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating

author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are

————————————————————————

You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.

She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."

Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.

"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.

This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.

"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"

Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"

Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.

Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.

"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.

Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.

Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.

It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.

"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.

Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.

So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.

He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.

A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.

'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'

She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.

'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'

Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.

“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.

Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.

Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.

"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.

He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."

His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.

"I want to hear it from you."

"I felt fine."

Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.

"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.

You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.

"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.

You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.

"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"

'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."

Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.

"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.

Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."

Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of  your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"

You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.

"Look at me."

He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.

His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.

Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.

"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."

The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.

Art Donaldson lived to be praised.

You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"

Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.

"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.

You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"

Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.

"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."

Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.

Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.

His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.

Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.

When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.

His breath is shallow—anticipatory.

"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.

"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.

"You know you don't have to ask."

There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.

It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.

Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.

Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction. 

You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.

His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.

“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”

You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.

“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.

Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.

Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ blurb : roommate!hamzah goes bald .. & "we listen and we don't judge"

roommate!hamzah x poc!reader

summary : blurb and smau in which hamzah is bald now and roommate!reader begs him to do the tiktok trend "we listen and we don't judge"

mickey speaks : hiii love u slushies & more of my hamzah works can be found here <3

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youruser

Liked by kynewman, mandys_iphone, and others

yourusername this lyfe toooooo sweet 💭❤️

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enyaumanzor hi ur so fucking cute • ♥︎ by author

yourusername MUUAHHHHH

mandys_iphone my heart skipped a beat • ♥︎ by author

yourusername can i get a little kiss kiss?

thatmartinkid Uh well no cus she's actually my Girlfriend 🤓!

yourusername omg go somewhere else lil boy !!!!!

ynfan ooooweeeeee i needed this yes lawdd • ♥︎ by author

hamzahandyntruther RIP HAMZAH CURLS and HELLO HAMY/N CONTENT!!!!!! #loserscanalsobewinners 🤔? • ♥︎ by author

hamzahthefantastic mmmbruh • ♥︎ by author

yourusername mmmmokay

•

•

•

--- we listen and we don't judge

you start the video and lean back to get you both in frame, causing hamzah to yelp in panic as he tries to push his beanie down over his head quicker, "wait!" his voice strains and you giggle before cutting the clip.

it cuts to both of you silently staring at the camera before hamzah smirks and makes you both laugh.

"okay this one's serious," you say as you lean back after starting the video once more, entirely overlapping hamzah's space (not that he minds). you grab your notebook from beside you on the couch, "ready?"

hamzah who has been following your movements the entire time, is already looking at you when you look over to him, "girl, i've been ready. you're the one with the giggles"

"the attitude is crazy"

"aht!" he raises a finger while stretching his arm behind you to rest on top of the soft couch, "what do we do?"

you catch on and nod your head with him as you reply together, "we listen and we don't judge"

"right!" he exclaims harshly, catching you off guard, especially when he shakes you by your shoulders slightly. his face drops when you don't laugh and he turns to the camera with his jaw dropped. he shakes his head with a dismissive kiss of his teeth, "wicked reference. you wouldn't get it."

"uh huh, you go first hamzah." he rubs your shoulder before putting his hand back onto the couch to rest.

he clears his throat, "'kay, sometimes when i'm really bored and you're like showering, or something, i move around something in your room. it's like something small you don't notice like switching where a stuffed animal is on your bed or somethin'"

your smile falls the more he speaks, "oh. starting off strong!"

the camera cuts and you're both overly-smiling, "we listen and we don't judge!!"

"when i'm like really hungry..." you look into his eyes, "this is like middle of the night, right, and i'll go into the kitchen and just sneak a bite or two of your leftovers-"

"oh nahhhh, what the hell??? y/n!"

"no! listen! like, if there's nothing else to eat!"

hamzah pouts slightly, "that's just evil, bro"

"you want me to starve? okay, i'll just starve next time and you'll be sorry!"

"no i won't" he squints his eyes, "and don't start that gaslightin-"

the clip cuts to you both excitedly repeating, "we listen and we don't judge!"

"well sometimes when you get home late from hanging out with people i'll hop in bed and fake being asleep because i like it when you sit there and harass me to wake up," he smiles menacingly.

"ew, you're a freak! you like when i beg for your attention???" you question while laughing.

"well yes!"

"we listen and we don't judge!"

"i hid your contacts for like three days once because i thought you looked cute with your glasses on" you say it with a smile as if it wasn't such a devious act.

"what?" hamzah turns to laugh at you, "pardon???"

"we listen and we don't judge."

"well, i got really drunk once and peed in your bathtub."

your face is still before you blink and look at him with a smile threatening to split, "when was this??"

"uhhhh, i dunno. i think like a month or two ago, but martin was using your toilet and i literally couldn't hold it-"

"so you pissed in my tub with martin stood inches away?"

hamzah begins to laugh so hard he can barely get out his breathy, "yes, exactly"

"i actually hate the image you just put in my head oh my god!!!!" you squeal and melt yourself into your cascading giggle-fit and sink further into hamzah's side.

you both laugh together- the kind of laughter that overpowers your entire being, when your eyes are squinted and there is no air in your lungs to produce an abundant sound any longer.

hamzah breaks his hold on you to wipe his eyes and reach for your phone yelling, "turn this shit off"

it cuts to a final clip of you smiling with your head resting on top of hamzah's as you pet his beanie-clad head, "bald!"

"enough!!!" the video gets blurry before cutting off as hamzah manhandles you off of him.

[withwritersblock]

Teenage Dirtbag

~Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus but the 1D cover~

Author's Note: requested! this started out as one thing and then it ended up be 5k words of idk! Summary: Jack falls for the quiet girl in the group Warnings: nothing too bad Word Count: 5,746 Jack Hughes x fm!reader

They were the definition of mutual friends. Her best friend was dating his brother’s best friend, so they only interacted in groups. As in, he was always the center of attention and she was observing quietly. They have been mutual friends for a few years now, only sharing a few conversations here and there.

It was the first summer that the boys were all free and so were the girls. It was Luke’s idea to have everyone come to the Hughes’ lakehouse. The entire groupchat was ecstatic and talking about their travel plans. But since Y/N was only really friends with Hanah and her boyfriend John. Y/N was always quiet during the group hangouts so she didn’t think anyone else would notice if she didn’t want to come to Michigan. 

She thought at least until Jack had texted in the chat asking if she was planning on coming. She told the chat that she was planning on it and everyone was ecstatic to have the whole group there for the entire summer.

Which is how she ended up in a plane flying to Michigan. She was sitting beside Hanah and John. John was on the isle seat with his rested on Hanah shoulder as he was dead asleep. They were landing in thirty minutes and he had slept the whole flight despite Hanah’s constant chatter. Y/N would mumble a few replies but she was in her own little world. 

She was not someone who enjoyed a lot of attention or even being social for a long time. Which is why this group was usually at a distance. She loved being around them but she also needed time away from them. 

Two whole months with them felt like a nightmare because she was the only one that didn’t thrive in social situations.

“We’ve got a summer of concerts and a summer on the lake, how are you not excited?” Hanah begged as she took a hold of Y/N’s hand. She rolled her eyes playfully.

“I am excited for relaxation,” Y/N offered as she glanced to the next row to see Jack and Luke chatting somewhat loudly.

Hanah rolled her eyes dramatically as she delicately took a hold his cheek. Y/N watched them intently, a sting of jealously coursing through her body.

“It’s going to be an amazing summer,” Hanah mumbled as she kept her gaze on John. Y/N nodded as she shifted her gaze down towards her phone for the remainder of the flight. 

Once they were off the flight the walk through the airport took forever since the boys kept getting stopped for photos and their Uber driver was all the way at the back of the Uber pick up line. The rest of the groupchat was flying in from all over North America and were planning on meeting at the house.

The Uber driver finally pulled up in front of them and Luke happily took the shotgun seat and forced everyone else to squeeze together in the back of the Kia. Because they were in need of an extra seat Hanah simply sat in John’s lap to create an extra seat. The Uber driver didn’t realize that when his car had five seats, it included himself. Jack jumped in and sat in the middle seat, leaving Y/N to sit against the window. 

She kept her gaze towards the window despite Jack and her own knee forced to be against one another. “Sorry, last time I cheap out on Ubers,” Jack mumbled as he leaned towards her. She forced a smile onto her lips as she met his gaze for a second. 

It’s fine,” she mumbled as she tilted her head towards the window.

Jack kept his gaze on her for a moment before he looked back down towards his lap. 

The drive to the Hughes’ lakehouse was only twenty minutes but it was definitely the longest twenty minutes of any of their lives, beside Luke. He was comfortable and eating the driver’s snacks he offered. Zero hesitation in the process. 

As soon as the car was put into park, Y/N instantly opened the door and slipped out. She kept it open as she walked towards the trunk and immediately pulling all of their suitcases out. Jack instantly followed in pursuit, keeping his distance. He pulled the last of the suitcases out and closed the trunk. Jack shifted his gaze towards her for a second before he started dragging two suitcases as once. 

Quinn, Trevor, and Cole all jogged out of the house, shirtless and excited to see everyone. This was only the third time she’s seen the three in person since the group chat was made. Which is another reason as to why she was unsure as to why she was invited. 

“Look at that the plans made it out of the chat!” Cole shouted as he instantly ran around to give each person a hug. Y/N hugged him back hesitantly but the hug last less than a second it seemed. 

“Everyone grab a suitcase, we gotta assign roommates,” Quinn let out excitedly. Everyone listened and didn’t seem to care about the situation except Y/N. She kept her own suitcases dragging behind her as she slowly walked towards the entrance of the house. The only person she truly knew in the house was Hanah, and she knew she was going to room with John. But who would that leave Y/N with?

Once they were inside it was obvious the house was huge and yet it still looked like a frat house. It was clean but the decor definitely gave boy. She stood awkwardly beside Hanah while she glanced towards Jack. His hair was covered with a backwards hat now and he had a wide grin on his lips. 

She’s always found him attractive, it’s hard not to but he was always so out there. She brought her gaze back towards the tile beneath her sandals. 

“Okay, we have five rooms. Which means some of us will have to get snuggly,” Quinn teased. His gaze was dancing around the room, meeting everyone’s eye for a moment. “Obviously John and Hanah will be sharing a room because-well,” he paused as he pointed towards them. The room giggled. “And Y/N you can have your own room.”

“Why does she get her own room?” Trevor whined jokingly.

“Because that would be weird to tell her that she had to share a bed with one of you assholes,” Quinn said while shaking his head, a chuckle falling from his lips.

Y/N let out a sigh of relief. She lifted her gaze to nod towards Quinn. He smiled towards her before he started his shpeel again. “Jack, you can either have your own room or pick between Trev and Cole because Lukey and I already decided to share,” 

“I’ll have my own room, thanks,” Jack let out with a wide grin on his lips. 

“I didn’t want to spoon with you anyway,” Cole let out, the entire room started to laugh, even Y/N.

“You guys can have my room,” Luke mumbled towards Trevor and Cole.

“Come on, Y/N, I’ll show you our private rooms,” he let out teasingly to the whole group. Everyone started to disperse towards their own bedrooms. Y/N stayed still for a second, her heart jumping into her throat. Alone with Jack. For the first time, ever.

She nodded as she reluctantly followed after him, dragging her two suitcases behind her. The two rooms that Jack and Y/N were in were on the main level while every other room was on the second floor. 

Jack opened one of the doors, tossing the door open. “That’ll be your room,” he let out before he spun around to face her. Shyly, she smiled towards him as she started walking into her room. He furrowed his eyebrows, leaving his suitcases in the hallway. She took a hold of one of the suitcases and tossed it onto the bed, a huff of air leaving her lips in the process.

He leaned against the doorway, his hands holding the top of the doorframe. She spun her head around, seeing him standing there. Her heart was beating out of her chest. Swallowing hard she turned her whole body around to face him. 

“How did you end up being friends with Hanah?” Jack asked as he slowly dropped his hands to the side, stepping into the room further. Furrowing her eyebrows, she awkwardly crossed her arms over her chest. “I-I mean you’re so quiet and she’s… so not,” 

Y/N stifled a laugh as she reached down and took a hold of her other suitcase. She placed it beside her other one and let out a huff of air before she turned her gaze towards Jack.

“We sat next to each other in second grade and I guess she took my silence as a yes to being friends,” she mumbled, he smiled softly. “Which it was at the time,” she continued meeting his eye.

He squinted his eyes sightly as he scanned her frame subtly before he swallowed hard. He stepped back while running his fingers through his hair. She turned around and opened the suitcase. “At the time?” he asked softly.

Taking in a deep breath, Y/N began to pull out her different clothes. Many of them were for dinner, clubs, or swimsuits. “Sometimes I get so tired of being social,” she mumbled, keeping her gaze away from him.

“I get that,” he mumbled, chuckling softly. “This group is all yappers except maybe John-but if you ever need a break don’t be afraid to just leave. We understand,” he explained softly.

Her lips fell into a pout as she turned around, meeting his eye and nodded. He smiled towards her before he slipped out of her room. She dropped her gaze towards the floor. A grin forming to her lips. 

~~~

It had been two days since they arrived and it was safe to say that Y/N was already exhausted from all of the group hanging out. She’s done at least for today. Which is why she hasn’t left her room yet She was laying on her bed, hugging a pillow tightly to her chest as she was watching Pretty Little Liars.

A few soft knocks hit her door. She shut her eyes harshly as she quietly forced out, “Come in.” she laid onto her back as the door was softly cracked open. Jack peeked his head inside holding a mug of coffee in his hand. 

“I brought you coffee,” he let out quietly as he slipped inside, he delicately shut the door. She pouted her lips as she slowly sat up slightly. “Splash of cream? Right?” he asked as he cautiously handed it over to her.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as she immediately brought the mug towards her lips. He winked towards her as he sat down beside her. She placed it onto the nightstand beside her. She met his eye for a moment before she dropped her gaze back towards her lap.

“We’re heading on the boat soon, do you want to join?” he asked. Subconsciously, her face scrunched up in disgust. He chuckled. “It’s okay, I’ll have my phone on me so text me if you want us to come pick you up,” he muttered, looking into her eyes. 

“Thank you,” she muttered as she shyly dropped her gaze towards her lap. He stood up and walked out of the room, not turning back to meet her eye. Shutting the door delicately, he walked down the hall towards the rest of the group and they were all in their swimsuits and walking around slightly stir crazy. 

“Is she coming?” Hanah asked hopeful. Jack shook his head as he shoved his hands into his swimtrunk’s pockets. “What, that’s bogus, I’ll grab her.”

“Leave her be, she wants to relax in bed,” Jack let out while chuckling.

“Well who am I supposed to hang with,” Hanah asked with a pout on her lips. John threw his hands to the side with his mouth falling open. “You don’t count,” she said delicately tapping her hand against his arm.

“She wants to be alone that’s all.” Jack continued as he walked backwards towards the door, “We have a boat to get drunk on, come on,” 

The whole group started to happily walk out of the house. Jack glanced down at his phone, somewhat expecting a text from her but there was nothing. He sighed as he followed the rest of them out into the heat. 

~~~

It was several hours later and everyone was quite drunk beside Jack and Y/N. They were slap happy, giggling and enjoying every drop of alcohol they were drinking. Jack didn’t want to take care of them anymore and decided to see if she would like some company. 

He walked up to the door, knocking softly and another echo of come in. He delicately pushed the door open, he peeked his head inside. She lifted her gaze up from her computer and smiled towards him. 

“What are you doing Jack?” she asked as he slowly slipped inside.

“Can I hang in here?” he asked quietly. She tried to stop the grin forming to her lips. She nodded as she closed her computer and placed it onto the nightstand. “Did you leave the room at all?” he asked teasingly as he jogged around the bed to sit on the other side. 

Furrowing her eyebrows, she met his gaze, “I did, I showered, thank you,” she let out sarcastically. He barked out a laugh as he tilted his head back against the headboard.

They sat together in silence for a few minutes, neither of them looking towards one another. Jack was not used to enjoying quiet, he usually hated anything that was quiet. In his life, quiet meant something bad was happening. But Y/N thrived in the quiet. Maybe even the happiest when it’s just her and silence. 

But she does look happy, maybe it was an act or maybe she was actually content with him sitting beside her.

“What are you doing?” she asked again, tilting her head to the side to meet his gaze. He pouted his lips, shaking his head slightly. “We barely interact for years, I think these past three days is the most we’ve interacted… ever,” she expressed.

He smirked as he continued to look into her eyes. “You’ve always caught my eye,” he let out quietly, subconsciously inching towards her.

“Really?” she asked shyly. He hummed as he continued to look into her eyes. “Okay,” she let out softly. He chuckled quietly as he tilted his head back, looking up towards the ceiling.

“What were you doing?” he asked, pointing towards her laptop. Her eyes lit up as her lips curled up into a grin.

“I was working on my manuscript,” she muttered. He grinned. “I started it years ago and now I’m just rewriting and editing it,” 

“Can I read it?” he asked. Instantly, she shook her head, “Oh come on!” he let out while laughing. 

“No,” she let out giggling, taking a hold of laptop and placing it on the floor, sliding it under the bed. 

“When it’s finished can I read it?” he questioned pursing his lips forward. She nodded as she leaned her head back against the headboard. “Good,” he let out. After a few seconds, he tilted his head to the side to admire her side profile. “What’s it about?” 

“Jack,” she scolded softly.

“Right,” he muttered as he fought a smile on his lips. He looked back down towards his lap. She giggled as she took a hold of the TV remote beside her and turned on the TV. “What are we watching?” he asked. She simply shrugged before she climbed under the covers. Jack watched her before he followed in pursuit. 

“Any preference?” she asked barely above a whisper. He shook his head while pouting his lips. Nodding, she pulled up Hulu and went to the episode of Law and Order SVU she was on. He furrowed his eyebrows harshly as he stared towards her. Shifting her gaze towards him, she fought a grin on her lips. 

“Who just puts on Law and Order?” he questioned. She shrugged as she shifted her gaze back towards the screen. “God, you are so weird,” he let out while laughing. She rolled her eyes playfully. 

~~~

“She lives!” Hanah teased as Y/N emerged from the hallway. Y/N rolled her eyes as she flipped her off. She wandered towards the empty seat beside Jack. 

She sat down and Jack trailed her frame as she sat down. Her frame was covered with loose shorts and a tight thing long sleeve pajama shirt. He pressed his lips together as he tilted his head back against the couch for only a moment. 

“Sorry,” Y/N muttered as she sunk into herself. Jack furrowed his eyebrows as he glanced towards Hanah for a second before he looked back towards Y/N. He could that the little joke Hanah said actually hurt her feelings. 

“We’re going to the shops, if you want to come with,” Jack asked softly. She met his gaze and nodded. He smiled widely before shifting his gaze towards the group. 

“Yes!” Hanah cheered loudly. Y/N forced a grin on her lips before she shifted her gaze back down towards her lap. 

The entire group started engaging in conversation, Jack was talking loudly with Trevor about something relating to videos they have to shoot in August. Y/N shifted her gaze towards him, watching him laugh loudly and be the center of attention. The way he laughed and smiled widely was different from how she saw him last night.

It was how she usually saw him. Cracking jokes and laughing loudly. He was always the center of attention, he was Jack Hughes afterall. 

She smiled softly as she continued to admire him, maybe secretively maybe not. She didn’t care, a lot of the time no one even noticed that she was there. He shifted his gaze briefly towards her, smiling once he met her eye before he went right back into his conversation.

It was an hour later and they were all at the shops that were full of pastel beach themed colors. The first shop they went to were stereotypical tourist gear but they stuck around to look at the tiny trinkets.

Y/N took a hold of a tiny racoon that was in a fishing boat. She stifled a small chuckle as she continued to look through each of the tiny things. Jack stumbled beside her, nearly knocking over a lamp. He steadied the lamp while meeting her gaze. She chuckled as she took a hold of a tiny frog sitting on a mushroom. She held it up towards him and he squinted his eyes while he fought off a laugh. 

“Are you planning on buying anything?” he asked, she shrugged as she continued to show him the weirder and the weirder desk decorations. “You sure you don’t need a dinosaur dressed as a--astronaut?” he asked holding it up towards her. She rolled her eyes playfully.

“That’s insane,” she let out as she took a step back away from the table. He smiled towards her as he pointed towards the exit, where majority of their friends were already heading. She smiled shyly as she followed after him. 

“Y/N, this next store has swimsuits, maybe you shouldn’t go in since you don’t like to go swimming,” Hanah said with a smirk on her lips, intending to make a joke. 

“Hardy har,” Y/N said while crossing her arms over her chest.

The next store was strictly clothing and everyone was actually pulling things to try on and potentially purchase. Y/N was looking at a handful of dresses. The dresses she had pulled out her skin tight and in many different shades of colors. One of them had long sleeves and she was excited to try it on. 

Jack was watching from the distance, he was in the men’s section looking at the random hoodies. He’s always kept an eye on her, something about her always intrigued him. Sure, it was how she would go hours without talking while hanging out or how she would be shyly hiding in the corner of any party or night club.

She was stunning, that was no question. So gorgeous and so comfortable with trying to make sure no one noticed. But he did and he was determined to become close to her. He needed to know more about her.

He pulled the hoodie from the clothing rack and rolled his eyes before he placed it back onto it. He lifted his gaze again to see her walking towards the dressing room. He followed towards her, he shoved through the small crowds of people to try and meet up with her.

There was a line waiting for the two rooms that were available. Jack walked up beside her, smiling towards her. She spun around slowly meeting his gaze, she rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Jack,” she mumbled.

“Tho-those are nice,” he let out awkwardly. She squinted her eyes as she furrowed her eyebrows.

“Yeah, I think so,” she expressed as she kept her gaze on his. He glanced down towards the dresses before he looked back up to meet her eye. “What are you thinking?” she asked as her lips curled upward in a small smile. 

“Oh nothing,” he muttered, “Just gonna try on some clothes, I think,” he pursed his lips froward. She glanced down to his empty hands. He held his hands up and fought off a chuckle.

“You don’t have-” she trailed off.

“Yeah, I realized that. I don’t honestly know what I’m doing,” he explained while laughing. They moved up the line as someone exited. 

She smirked as she tilted her head to the side. “Jack,” she let out. He hummed while shaking his head, “Did you just want to see me try these dresses on?” she questioned teasingly. His mouth fell open as he fought a grin on his lips.

“I was n-not-that is so, yeah I think so. I honestly don’t remember,” he said while avoiding her gaze. She pursed her lips forward as she tried to meet his eye, deliberately moving her head side to side.

“Jack,” she said.

“Yeah,” he let out as he finally met her gaze.

“Maybe later,” she whispered. He grinned as he nodded before he quickly stumbled away from her. She dropped her gaze towards the floor, smiling shyly.

~~~

Finally they all returned to the house, several bags of trinkets and clothes in all of their hands. Y/N delicately placed the bags onto her bed when she heart a small knock on her door. She rolled her eyes playfully as she muttered a come in. He peeked his head inside as he slipped inside. He shut the door behind him and locked the door behind him.

“I was promised a haul,” he mumbled quietly.

“I thought the word that left my lips was a maybe,” she uttered as she turned around to meet his gaze. 

“I think you want to give me a haul,” he teased. She rolled her eyes as she dropped her gaze towards the floor for a moment. Jack furrowed his eyebrows as he scanned her suddenly worried features. “You okay?” he asked softly.

“What are you doing?” she asked, keeping her gaze on the floor. 

“What?” he asked softly. 

“Why are you all of a sudden acting like we’re friends? I mean I was fine playing along but seriously, Jack, what are you doing?” she asked, her lips quivering as she spoke. His eyes scanned her features, watching her waterline fill with tears. “Because if you are just doing this because you feel bad for me-”

“Why would I do that?” he asked softly, he took a step towards her. She pressed her lips together shaking her head, “I have been dying to get to know you. When I told you you’ve always caught my eye, I meant that,” he expressed as he took another step towards her. 

“We are friends because I listen when you talk and I know you listen when I talk. We’re friends because I enjoy your company even when you don’t feel like talking. I know you enjoy my company because you keep letting me in. We’re friends because I see you,” he explained as he looked deeply into her eyes, something he hasn’t gotten to do. Her eyes were still teary.

“Okay,” she muttered. 

“Okay,” he let out as he nodded slightly. 

Her lips curled upward softly as she took a deep breath. “Sit,” she mumbed as she pointed towards her bed. He smiled softly as he listened. “Close your eyes.”

He smirked as he shut his eyes while shaking his head back and forth. She picked up her phone and started playing her playlist softly, she delicately rested it onto the dresser beside her before she started to slip her jean shorts off of her frame. She pulled the tanktop off of her body as she picked up the gold dress.

It barely covered her ass as it was tight against her curves. It was lose along her chest to show off her cleavage. She sighed as she her bra off and kept her underwear on. She slowly slipped the dress on, adjusting it to make sure it fit her perfectly. 

The soft hum of the music made this more intimate than what she was expecting but she didn’t mind it. “Jack,” she let out barely above a whisper. He opened his eyes excitedly as he scanned her frame. His cheeks instantly flushed red as he continued to scan her frame. She shyly crossed her arms over her chest.

He shook his head as he stood up. Delicately, he took a hold of her arms and put them on her side. “Let me see you,” he whispered. She looked up towards him, fighting a small smile on her lips as she looked into his eye. “Oh my god,” he said as he hovered his hands around her frame. 

“I’ve got like four more,” she mumbled as she continued to look into his gaze. He nodded as he bit his bottom lip, he slowly sat down.

“I don’t know how they’ll beat this one,” he mumbled as he watched her walked towards the plastic bag. She pointed towards him, he dragged his tongue across his bottom lip before he tilted his head back while shutting his eyes. 

She slowly started to slip the dress from her frame again.

~~~

For the next few weeks Jack and Y/N would disappear together towards the end of the night. Since their rooms were in the same hallway, it didn’t cross anyone’s minds that they were hanging out together. Because no one’s truly noticed. 

Jack was sprailed out on his bed as he waited for Y/N to join him. She was alone in her room, getting into comfortable clothing before she slipped away towards his room. 

His feelings for her were starting to come more and more up front. After her little fashion show a few weeks back, he hasn’t stopped imagining what she would look like without the skin tight dresses on her frame. Nothing happened between them that night but she definitely could tell that he had some sort of feelings towards her. At least he thought it was obvious.

He held his phone above his face as he scrolled through his TikTok feed. He was chuckling at a few of the videos. His door was creaked open and Y/N had peeked her head inside. He pulled his phone away to meet her gaze, he smirked before he rested his phone onto the side table. 

“Hi,” he let out as he watched her twist the lock on the door. She pressed her lips together as she watched Jack scan her frame. She was wearing a matching gray set of loose shorts and a tight tank top. He bit his bottom lip trying to prevent a wide grin forming to his lips. 

“It’s weirdly quiet, are you sure everyone’s still here?” she asked as she pointed behind her. Jack shrugged as he patted the empty side of the bed. She rolled her eyes playfully as she climbed under the comforter and rolled onto her side to face him. He smirked as he kept his gaze on her lips.

“We’ve got the second season of New Girl to start,” he mumbled. She nodded as she inched towards him slightly. Subconsciously, he reached his hand over and took a hold of the base of her neck. He brushed her hair away from her face in the process. Her eyes widened slightly as she met his eye. He was breathing almost heavily but she wasn’t sure.

There was a moment where she felt her body erupt in flames. He continued to stare towards her lips, craving the taste of them. She swallowed hard as she felt her breath stuck in her throat.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked softly as he glided his thumb along her skin. He pressed his lips together as he scanned her features. She shook her head slightly almost instantly. He leaned towards her hovering his lips over hers. 

Slowly, she shut her eyes as her lips tingled with anticipation. He smirked before he leaned closer. His lips pressed against hers softly, almost as if asking for permission. His lips were soft and warm as he waited for her to part her lips; to grant him access. 

Parting her lips she took a hold of his shirt as he started to roll her onto her back. He adjusted the comforter on them, tossing it lower as a giggle fell from her lips. 

Every glide of his fingertips, created goosebumps all over her body as her chest felt heavy. Her breathing became more rapid as he rested both hands on either side of her. Her hands took a hold of his cheeks.

Slowly pulling his lips from hers, he started trailing his lips down her neck. He began to suck and bite the skin just below her ear. She stifled a sudden gasp of air as she tiled her head back as she ran her fingers through his hair. 

He pulled away, devouring her lips again. His hand started to toy with the hem of her tanktop.

“Oi, Jackaboy. You are needed in the basement, we’ve got a pool tourney starting!” Trevor shouted as he banged on the door. Jack instaly fell onto his back, staring towards the ceiling. His breathing heavy. “And can you find Y/N? She’s not in her room, we need another team,” he shouted as he banged his hand onto the door. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll find her. Just give me a second,” Jack shouted as he stood up from the bed. He shifted his gaze towards her, stifling a laugh. 

“Let’s go man,” Trevor shouted again.

“I’ll meet you down there, damn,” Jack said as me was looking into Y/N’s eye. She fought off a grin as she pulled her knees to her chest. Trevor banged on the door before he wandered away. 

Jack jogged around the bed to meet her on her side of the bed. Hovering over her, he took a hold of her cheek. “We got a few minutes of me searching for you, we could uh-” he trailed off as he scanned her features. She pursed her lips forward as she tilted her head back against the headboard. Leaning towards her, he delicately pressed his lips against hers. 

“Let’s go,” she mumbled against his lips. He pulled away, pouting before he stood up from the bed. Looking down towards her, he stepped back. 

“Lead the way,” he muttered pointing towards the door. She smiled as she slid off the bed. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes trailed her frame.

She peeked her head out of the bedroom to see no one in sight and they both started down the hallways towards the staircase towards the basement. Before they started down the steps, she turned around to meet his eye. “Don’t look at me,” she let out barely above a whisper.

“I can’t look at you?” he asked while meeting her gaze. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered. He smirked as she started walking down the steps. 

The rest of the evening ended with a tremendous victory for Luke and Quinn. They wouldn’t stop bragging at how much better they were than everyone else. It was obnoxious but regardless the evening was fun.

At first John and Hanah slipped away to their room. It was soon followed by Trevor and Cole. Quinn, Luke, Jack, and Y/N were the only ones left. Y/N was starting to fall asleep on the beanbag. Quinn chuckled as he rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Y/N, maybe you should head up to bed,” Quinn offered. Her eyes shot open as she shook her head slightly. The boys shared glances before Quinn and Luke shot up from their seats. “We’re gonna head up too,” Quinn muttered as he shifted his gaze to Jack, smirking slightly.

Jack waved the brothers off as he stood up from the beanbag. He stood above her, he glanced back towards his brothers who were already half up the stairs. He held out his hand towards her. She smiled towards him as she gladly took it.

He guided her towards the stairs, their hands still interlocked. They climbed up the stairs and Jack kept looking back and forth to check and see if any of their friends were around them.

He continued to guide her towards his bedroom, walking past her room. Delicately, he unlocked the door and guided her inside. She smiled towards him as she watched him locked the door behind them. He stood in front of her, meeting her gaze. 

“So where we we?” he asked as he delicately took a hold of her waist. She smirked as she rested her hands onto his chest. “Come ‘ere,” he mumbled as he pulled her towards him, kissing her softly. She giggled against his lips as she glided her hands from his chest towards the base of his neck.

[littlegrapejuice]

A Side Of Your Number | FC43

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: You work as a waitress at the restaurant where the grid is having their 2024 drivers' dinner, during which you catch the attention of a rookie.

Author's Note: y'all can't imagine how much i love this one like i was so inspired when i saw the pics of the drivers' dinner that i immediately ran to my f1 google docs🤭 i hope y'all enjoy, this is my 1st time writing for franco!!

F1 MASTERLIST🏎

“Good evening and welcome!” You exclaimed as you smiled at the drivers entering the room.

Everyone walked past you with a smile and went to get seated. The last one of the lot was Lewis Hamilton, who had organised the dinner.

“Hey, thanks for having us.” Lewis put his hand on your shoulder with a grateful look in his eyes.

“No problem, sir.”

“How many times have I told you to stop that?” Lewis sighed as he shook his head. “I’ve known you for years, and I have to remind you of that every time I see you.”

“Usually I do it just to annoy you,” you explained with a teasing smile. “Tonight however, it’s my job to be polite and professional so you don’t really have a choice. It’s the restaurant’s policy.”

“Fine. But don’t abuse the title please.”

“Of course,” you replied with a nod. “Sir.” You almost laughed as Lewis’s lips twitched. “Okay, sorry. I’ll just let you join the others then I’ll come give y’all the menus.”

Lewis did as you said and walked to the table where everyone was already sitting, before taking a seat with his current teammate George on his right while his future teammate Charles was on his left.

True to your words, you were bringing a menu for everyone a couple minutes later.

“I’ll let you make your choices and come back soon”, you told them before going back to the counter to get your notepad and pen.

As the drivers were deciding what to get, the atmosphere was light-hearted and cheerful. Everyone was exchanging their doubts about what to eat tonight, while others were giving advice on the food they were already familiar with. Having eaten there several times in the past – hence why he was friendly with you, Lewis was able to share his knowledge with the people around him. While George and Carlos were listening to his every word, Charles and Pierre were debating about how to approach the recent drama that had been occurring. On the opposite side of the table, another world champion had captured his friends’ attention. Franco, ever the fanboy, was nodding at everything Max was saying while Lando and Oscar had a similar goal as the French speakers on the other side.

As it had been deliberate to have Max and George sitting at opposite ends, the majority of drivers were hoping to get some new comments on the situation without being too obvious. The two protagonists of this feud were honestly aware of that, but didn’t let it show on their respective faces and decided on having a peaceful night.

When you saw that most of them had put their menu down and heard the chatter getting a bit louder, you took that as your cue to get everyone’s order. You felt lucky that some drinks and meals had been chosen several times, meaning that you didn’t have to write too many things. Your way of organising your notes was pretty simple: next to each item, you were just writing the number of the drivers as you knew them all by heart. Soon enough, you were bringing everyone their drinks after you had sent the food orders to the kitchen. Even though almost all the grid was there, you didn’t have any issue in navigating around the huge table that was accommodating seventeen drivers. Starting from the furthest side away from the counter, you made your way up to the other side of the table. Everyone was being really nice to you and thankful for your service, which made Lewis smile as he was glad that your work was being appreciated.

Almost done, you now only had four drinks left to bring to Max, Lando, Oscar, and Franco. Although you were a big Mclaren fan – more of the drivers than the team nowadays, you managed to remain professional. Lewis knew about your preference, but never took it the wrong way because you had once told him that you became a Mclaren fan when he was still with them. Therefore, he had no right to judge you for playing favourites when he was the original reason for that. Moreover, he knew that you were supporting him as an individual driver, whatever team he was on.

You had to admit that you were also nervous to serve Max as the Dutch was really intimidating. However, the smile he gave you when you set down his drink was the most genuine you had ever seen and all your worries went away in less than a second. Finally, you gave his drink to Franco. You didn’t have a strong opinion on him yet. Sure he was cute and had a certain charm to him from what you had seen in interviews, but you still had a hard time judging his racing as he hadn’t been in Formula One for long and had probably been pulled from Formula Two way too early. And despite the points he had scored during his first races, he had crashed several times recently so you’d need to see him do a full season one day in order to rank him as a driver and not only as a person. Safe to say, you were quite neutral to face him compared to the others. Still, you offered him your kindest smile when you put down the glass on the table.

“And this is for you, enjoy!” Despite using your customer service bubbly personality, you were truly happy to do your job tonight and no one could deny it.

Turns out that someone else was now also very happy that you were doing this job. See, as you barely had time to remove your hand from the drink you had set down, someone else’s was grabbing it. You didn’t really register the physical touch as you honestly didn’t mind – it didn’t happen that often, but the other person was surprisingly perturbed. So while you were waiting for them to remove their hand from yours, it seemed that they hadn’t even realised it. Franco, who was the one with his hand around the glass and around your hand, was looking up at you. He blinked a couple times and opened his mouth to speak before following your gaze that was focused on the drink.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Franco apologised as he immediately retracted his hand, letting you put yours back to your side.

“No problem, don’t worry!” You smiled at the young driver before taking a look around the table. “I’ll be back with the first dishes soon guys, enjoy your drinks in the meanwhile!”

Everyone thanked you before they began clinking their glasses together, and once again the chatter got louder. The drivers were comparing drink choices and their tastes, as they shared souvenirs of past dinners. One driver, though, was a bit more silent than others. Franco was currently nodding along to whatever story Yuki was telling about one of his trips, and just quietly sipped his drink. Easy to say that he wasn’t going to remember anything as it seemed that his mind was occupied with something else – or rather someone else. His eyes kept drifting back to you, back facing the drivers as you were organising some shelves behind the counter. If one wasn’t really paying to where Franco’s gaze was directed, they could’ve just thought him overwhelmed from the setting. That was what Esteban had assumed.

“Hey man,” he called out to catch Franco’s attention. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm, yeah, yeah…” Franco mindlessly replied. “All good, don’t worry.”

Esteban didn’t have much time to wonder about whether to drop the subject or not due to Franco’s lack of convincing, that someone else had picked up on the short conversation.

“Franco, mate, everything alright?” Lando questioned, keeping a low voice as to not alert the whole table.

Now realising that he was worrying the others and catching too much attention, Franco sat up before repeating his previous words:

“I’m good, yeah. Sorry, I got a little bit distracted there. Just need to eat and I’ll be energised again, no worries!”

“I see,” Lando replied. “I get you, you’re young and still growing! You’re absolutely not distracted because you got a crush on our waitress.”

“Exactly,” Franco agreed before he processed the last sentence. “Wait– what did you say?”

“Lando said that you definitely need food while you’re still growing,” Oscar repeated. “Even though he’s barely a couple centimetres taller than you.”

“I meant growing as in growing up”, Lando retorted.

“Well, you’re not that much older than him anyways.” Oscar shrugged before going back to his conversation with Liam and Yuki who were sitting on his right.

While Max was quick to replace Oscar in teasing Lando, Franco was experiencing an entire life crisis regarding the conversation that had just happened. Did he imagine Lando’s words? Did no one else hear that? He wondered as he looked around: Esteban appeared to have stopped caring as he was talking with Nico about Haas, and the other drivers sitting across Franco didn’t seem to have paid any attention to him as they all deemed him fine. Franco truly thought he had gone crazy – he probably had. First, he loses all ability to speak because a pretty girl is serving him. And now, he can’t even differentiate his imagination from reality? He really wasn’t acting like himself. Franco was usually the one to flirt and make people nervous, never the opposite – except that one time when Oscar said he was funny in his interviews and that he needed to learn Spanish. He had to fix the situation, no more getting flustered because of eye contact with you.

Safe to say: it was easier said than done, because it was happening again.

As you started to bring everyone’s food, Franco couldn’t help his gaze following your every move. He had to think of something to make you nervous, not him! And now that he was remembering the moment from ten minutes ago, he realised that you hadn’t even done anything special for him to act like that. You were just doing your job and were as nice as the next person, so why was Franco already smitten from a thirty second interaction? He sighed as he tried to find a way to reverse the roles, which was a difficult task for him and proved impossible when you were once again in front of him.

“There you go, Franco!”

Your smile didn’t fully reach your eyes, but Franco could tell it was sincere; and how he was loving it! And did his name ever sound as good as when you were the one to say it? Was he the only one whom you had addressed by their first name? He wouldn’t be able to tell, Franco had kinda muted everything around him until you had reached him. Realising he hadn’t even replied after you had set down his plate, he quickly tried to thank you before you would be leaving the table as you had just given Oscar his food.

“Excuse me!” He called, albeit loudly which made him cringe that he would catch the other drivers’ attention, and waited for you to turn to him. When you did so and looked at him, he talked again. “Just forgot to thank you for the food, sorry.”

“Oh, that's no problem. Don’t worry about it, enjoy!”

“Thanks, again.”

Oh God, why was he so nervous to speak to you? Franco wanted to facepalm at how badly he had handled the situation. You would never be able to take him seriously after that, would you? Not wanting to keep embarrassing himself, Franco decided to start eating before someone would call him out on his actions. However, it didn’t take long as he felt someone nudging his leg from under the table. Franco looked up and his eyes met Liam’s.

“So,” Liam began. “I forgot to thank you for the food, sorry!” The blonde laughed at his own imitation of Franco, which amused the other drivers that had watched the interaction between you and the Argentinian.

“Oh my God…” Franco sighed and put his head in his hands. It was over for him, everyone would tease him and he would have to find a job in another racing category to be left alone.

“I don’t blame you,” Lando said. “She’s nice and she has a sweet smile. Is she your type?”

“She doesn’t need to be his type for him to like her”, Nico added. He turned slightly to be able to face Franco before continuing. “You should shoot your shot as you kids say nowadays, can’t hurt to try.”

“Agreed,” Yuki nodded. “We’ll make you look good in front of her, don’t worry.”

The other drivers confirmed and Franco thought it would be over for now, before someone kept the conversation going:

“Who are we making look good for whom?” Alex asked as he hadn’t been listening, having been talking with his future teammate Carlos.

“Franco”, Esteban replied. “He likes the waitress.”

“Hey!” Franco exclaimed. “Can we not air my business like that? I’m pretty sure we could be discussing other gossip.”

“But you’re not denying it,” Valtteri pointed out.

To that, Franco had nothing to reply for a good minute.

“I don’t like her, I barely know her.”

“Then get to know her,” Liam said as if it was obvious before he took a piece of food to eat.

“The kid is right,” Valtteri agreed.

“Thank you!” Liam was grateful to be supported.

“Lewis,” Valtteri eventually called to his friend who was a couple seats away. “What can you tell us about her?”

“Hmm?” The eight seven-times world champion looked up from his plate, fork in his mouth. He was confused about what he was gonna get involved in as he had spent the last half hour talking with Charles and George, the three of them having been in their own little bubble. He swallowed his food before wiping his mouth. “What’d I miss?”

“The waitress, what can you tell us about her?” Valtteri repeated.

“Why?” Lewis raised an eyebrow, confused as to why you were the topic of the table.

“I think little Franco over here wants to ask her out”, Carlos replied. He hadn’t given his opinion on the discussion yet, happy to just be a spectator and listen.

“I never said tha–” Franco began to argue.

“You want to date her?” Lewis asked, the serious tone obvious in his voice. At that, everyone around the table fell silent.

“I don’t know!” Franco desperately answered, stressed by the fact that Lewis was now getting involved.

“So you don’t like her?” Lewis rested his chin on his hands, to better focus on and assess Franco’s reactions. “She’s not to your liking? Not kind enough perhaps? Not hardworking enough?”

“I–” Franco was at a loss for words. He was truly about to shit himself and disappear from the face of the earth. Right now, he was almost glad to not have a seat next year because he didn’t think he would be able to handle facing the drivers anymore after this whole chaos. “She seems really nice, yeah.”

“She is,” Lewis simply stated.

“And yeah, she’s pretty.” His gaze landed once again on you. Fortunately for him, you were far enough from the table to not hear anything, but he was still able to look at your profile while you were chatting with some of the cooks. To his luck – really? – you had decided right at this moment to turn back to quickly check on how the drivers’ dinner was going and your eyes met his for a split second. Just a smile from you was enough to make Franco flustered again, making him drop the eye contact immediately. You went back to your conversation, completely unaware of what was happening barely ten metres away from you. When Franco realised that everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to keep going, he gulped. “I guess I wouldn’t mind being friends with her.”

“Just friends?”

“That’d be the main goal indeed”. Franco decided to be more confident in himself, and even though he was facing his idol, he had to be tough. “But becoming more could eventually be a great bonus.”

As Lewis kept asking questions about Franco’s intentions for another minute, which the young driver didn’t hesitate in answering, the rest of the drivers were still silent. They were all absolutely invested in the conversation unfolding before them, their heads turning left and right as if they were watching a tennis match. If the drama between George and Max had been the most interesting thing at the beginning of the night, it was now the least of their worries. Finally, the exchange between Lewis and Franco was coming to an end – almost to everyone’s disappointment as the entertainment would stop.

“Fine”, Lewis said as he let his hands drop back to his side and got more relaxed in his seat.

“Fine?” Franco repeated.

“I’ll give you a chance,” he explained. ‘Can’t say yet that she’ll do the same, but I guess you wouldn’t be too bad for her if anything were to happen.”

“Thanks…” Franco mumbled as he scratched his neck. He was still embarrassed that he had to have this conversation about you with the Sir Lewis Hamilton. At least, it was safe to shoot his shot now.

Not expecting it, you suddenly heard the whole table erupt in cheers and got startled as they were probably the loudest clients you’d ever heard in the restaurant. Looking at the cooks in confusion, you then let out a laugh at the drivers’ happiness. You had no idea what was happening, but you were glad that they were having fun. You knew from Lewis that the relations between drivers weren’t always rainbows and sunshines, but it warmed your heart to see them all getting along for one evening.

Debating if it was your cue to go up to the table when the cheers got quieter, you got a confirmation when Lewis called out your name. You excused yourself to the cooks – telling them to maybe expect orders soon enough – and walked up to the drivers with the same smile you had harboured since the beginning of the evening. At first, you had stopped at the table end that had been closest to you, but Lewis actually made you sign to join him at the other end where he was.

“How’re you doing?” He asked you when you were beside him.

“Good, good. What about you, guys? I heard a pretty nice celebration there.”

“We are indeed celebrating”, Lewis confirmed as he stood up next to you. “Toast with us?”

“I’m working Lewis”, you replied with a sigh. You had abandoned your smile and opted for a straight face that you hoped would remind your friend of your actual duties here.

“Just one drink?” He almost pleaded. “We’ll be very disappointed if you refuse.”

You reluctantly agreed – to which Lewis grinned – and quickly got yourself a drink before you came back to stand by the Brit. Thinking that you could treat yourself, you had taken a beer that you were definitely planning on charging Lewis for.

“So, what are we toasting to?” You wondered as you swirled your drink.

“To us: the 2024 grid. To the new drivers, and to the drivers that have been there for years and will still be there next year. But most importantly…” Lewis took his time glancing at his former partner at Mercedes, before his glance drifted to the others that had limited time left in Formula One. “We toast to the ones that won’t be here with us anymore starting next season. We’ll remember them to have been amongst the twenty best drivers in the world, and we’ll remember their meaningful careers. To us!” Lewis repeated, which was echoed by everyone else around the table.

To say you got chills was an understatement. Lewis’s speech was short, but enough for everyone listening to understand the weight of his words. No matter how long they had been in Formula One for, no matter how long they’ll still be here, no matter their achievements: there will always be someone to tell the stories of the drivers that had once reached the pinnacle of motorsport.

You knew Lewis had never taken his position for granted. He had fought to get to it, fought to stay there for the past seventeen years, and kept fighting to keep his place for the future. You had always admired him for his resilience, and you were always one to admire someone whenever they would reach the top step that was Formula One. Therefore, you were soaking in this moment. A moment shared with the seventeen people around you, whom you would never forget.

Your eyes, once again, met Franco’s. You gave him a discreet nod with a smile and slightly tipped your beer in his direction, as a way to tell him that yes, you would remember even him amongst the greatest. He shyly smiled back, and took a sip of his drink to distract himself from the way your eyes were softly looking at him from afar. After a moment of silence during when everyone had stayed quiet as a way of honouring those around them, you decided to fall back into your work persona.

“Not that I hate getting involved in this little get-together, but I am actually employed to serve y’all and not drink with the clients. Someone,” you emphasised with a look to Lewis, “better remember that.”

“Alright, blame it all on me.” Lewis raised his hands in defence. “I guess it’s time for some desserts then, right?”

The other drivers all agreed with the offer, and you took their plates to bring them back to the kitchen. After you had cleaned the table – except for the drinks that weren’t done yet, you gave everyone a dessert menu and let them make their choices. You came back to the table a couple minutes later to take the final orders, and wrote everything down. When you double-checked that you had seventeen desserts noted, you told the table that you’d be back soon and turned away. However, someone called out to you.

“Excuse me!” You recognised the voice as Lando’s. “You didn’t get Franco’s full order.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You immediately apologised, wondering what you had missed as you clicked your pen, ready to add anything else.

“What are you doing?” Franco asked the Brit. Although he was whispering, everyone could hear the stress in his voice as he had no idea what to expect.

“So what can I get you?” You looked at Franco and smiled, waiting for him to tell you what he wanted.

Absolutely panicking, Franco didn’t know what to answer. His only option was to look at Lando for an explanation as to what he was expecting him to say, but it turned out to be his biggest mistake. Your gaze followed the direction in which Franco had glanced, and your eyes met Lando’s. He had already been looking at you, a grin on his face as he rested his cheek on his palm.

“He’ll just have whatever he had ordered with a side of your number.”

The entire room – which was honestly just you and the drivers – fell silent. As cringe and embarrassing it was for Lando to say that, he knew it was for the greater good. The dinner would be soon over, everyone would go back to their hotels and immediately go to sleep, due to the busy day waiting for them. So who knows if and when Franco would’ve actually talked to you.

Not knowing what to reply for a few seconds, you then processed Lando’s words and chuckled.

“I’ll see what I can do, we have a very limited stock.” Your eyes went back to looking at Franco, who was blushing. “Can you confirm to me that Lando got your order right, Franco?”

“Y–yeah, that’s what I’d like.” Franco wanted nothing more than to disappear six feet underground right now. “If that’s okay… I would understand if you can’t accommodate that.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem, don’t worry. I’ll get back to you soon.”

When you left the drivers to their antics to go relay the orders to the kitchen, you couldn’t help the giddy smile that appeared on your face. It wasn’t everyday that a cute driver was interested in you. Hell! It wasn’t everyday that someone was interested in you, period. You thought about quickly texting Lewis to ask him for his opinion, but decided otherwise when you remembered him telling you about the ‘promising Argentinian who definitely deserved a full-time seat in the future’. You tried to find a way to give Franco your number, which could let you avoid doing so in front of all the drivers. You figured they had already teased him about it if Lando was as involved as he seemed to be, and kept thinking about a solution while you waited for the desserts to be ready.

Eventually, you had found the perfect idea. So when you brought the desserts to the drivers, you put your plan in motion. As you put Franco’s plate in front of him, you managed your best customer service voice along with an apologetic tone:

“I’m truly sorry, but your added request is actually impossible to fulfill at the moment.” You did your best not to laugh at your poor acting, and almost stopped pretending when you saw Franco’s dejected expression. “But, I found another solution to accommodate your needs.”

Confused, Franco tilted his head at you. You then gave him a piece of paper that was folded in two, and he wondered if your number was actually written on it or if it was all an act to reject him nicely. He truly thought you could have been interested too, but maybe the other drivers’ involvement along with him hitting on you at your workplace had been a complete ick. However, when you gave him one last glance before telling everyone to enjoy their food, he could swear you had winked at him. This was a good sign then, right?

As you left the drivers one more time, Franco debated unfolding the paper to read what was written on it. But when he saw that everyone was staring at him, expecting him to read out loud the content of the paper, he actually put it in his pocket. This led to the drivers all sighing of disappointment before they chose to focus on their food.

The rest of the dinner went well. When everyone was done eating, they simply chatted about the upcoming grand prix before it was time to pay and leave the restaurant. The drivers called you back for the bill, which you brought a few minutes later. Not thinking twice, you set it down in front of Lewis.

“I’m actually the one paying,” Valtteri pointed out.

“That’s so nice of you,” you replied. “I honestly think that the oldest should pay, but that’s just my opinion.”

“You wanna bankrupt me or what?” Lewis asked you.

“As if it would do harm to your bank account”, you retorted. “I’m pretty sure the world champion titles paid really well.”

“I can confirm”, Max shouted from the other end of the table.

“We’re settled, don’t worry. It’s my goodbye gift to them”, Valtteri assured you before you gave him the card terminal so that he could pay.

You thanked him and gave him his receipt before putting the terminal back in your pocket. You were about to start cleaning the table and bid the drivers good night when they asked you to take pictures for them. As an amateur photographer, you couldn’t refuse the request and even offered to use the digital camera you always had on you. They gladly accepted and you found yourself taking a dozen pictures of the drivers. You told Lewis that you would send the digitals later tonight, and he thanked you in advance.

It was now time for the drivers to actually leave and get ready for a good night's sleep before their last grand prix of the season. Telling them goodbye one by one and wishing them luck for the race, each driver sent you one last smile before thanking you once again for your wonderful service. The last two left were Franco and Lewis. You felt happy for Franco to be able to hang out so easily with his idol as you could relate to that surreal experience. They approached you while Lewis had his arm around Franco’s shoulders, and a smile was present on both their faces.

“We had a great night”, Lewis told you. “Right, Franco?” The young driver eagerly nodded and Lewis chuckled.

“Glad to know I did my job well. I’ll see you guys soon, yeah? Maybe for next year’s dinner?” You suggested.

“Why not tomorrow?” Lewis countered.

“You wanna have dinner here tomorrow as well?” You asked, confused as to why he hadn’t notified you sooner.

“I meant tomorrow at the track”, Lewis clarified. “And the day after that, and on Sunday for the race.”

“I didn’t buy tickets for this year. I’ll see well enough on my TV, don’t worry.”

“I have tickets for you though. Paddock passes and all”, he explained. “I sent them to you by email earlier during dinner. You’ll come say hi to us, yeah?”

“Oh! Well, yes! Oh my God, thank you so much!” You were absolutely ecstatic to be able to attend the grand prix. Usually, you would watch it from home, especially when you were working that day and didn't have any days off left to use.

“Everything has been arranged with your employer by the way; so you only need to show up every day, tour our garages, and look pretty to watch us race. Sounds good?”

“Sounds absolutely perfect, thank you Lewis.” You were beaming with happiness. “That means I’ll see you tomorrow as well Franco, will I?”

“Yeah of course,” he nodded. “You’ll have to come to me yourself though, I don’t have a way of contacting you.”

“Yet”, you teased with a smile. “Well, not like I don’t appreciate your company, but I need to close and go back home so I’ll have to ask you to leave guys.”

“Sorry,” Lewis and Franco both apologised before they finally left the restaurant.

You waved at them and closed the door as you got ready to finish cleaning up everything. On the other side of the door, the two drivers were now alone as they started making their way outside.

“You’re still not checking her note?” Lewis wondered after a few minutes of silence.

“I don’t know… I’m a bit nervous to read it,” Franco admitted.

“And I’m actually a bit curious to know what it says.”

Knowing that you trusted the Brit, Franco deemed it fine to open your note in front of him as he imagined that you hadn’t written anything indecent. However, when he finally revealed its content, Franco’s eyes widened with surprise and Lewis got even more interested in what it said.

“Ask the seven times world champion”, Lewis started reading out loud over Franco's shoulder. “He should give you my number if he thinks you deserve it (I certainly think you do)”.

While Lewis was laughing at your words, Franco was looking at him expectantly. If he wasn’t stressed enough about asking you out, he was now even more as he realised he had to go through Lewis – again.

“So… hmm…” Franco hesitated for a few seconds. “Is it actually okay if I ask you for her number? I swear I won’t do anything wrong!”

“Don’t worry kid, I trust you on that. Give me a top ten in free practice tomorrow and you got yourself a deal.”

“Okay!” Franco agreed, sudden determination in his voice. “I’ll do my best!”

“I don’t doubt it”, Lewis replied with a proud smile on his face. “Have a good night, Franco. See you tomorrow,” he added as they would be going different ways to their respective hotels.

“Thanks, you too!”

Excited for the next day, Franco had harboured a huge grin while going back to his hotel room. He was confident in his skills. And despite having to drive an old version of his car, half taped-up, he knew he was able to achieve good times tomorrow. He had a pretty good motivation to do so.

…..

“P7 Lewis!” Franco shouted as he walked towards his idol after the first free practice, phone in hand, and a smile on his face.

“Nice job kid,” Lewis congratulated. “Give me your phone then.” Franco immediately obeyed and Lewis finally put your number in the Argentinian’s contacts. “There you go,” he told him while giving back the phone.

“Thanks! I’ll see you later, bye!” Franco waved while he went back to the direction of his garage, already drafting up a text to send you.

He wasted no time in sending you the message he had spent all night thinking of. He hoped you wouldn’t take too much time to reply as he didn’t know if he could handle the wait. Luckily, his wish had been granted one way or another: as soon as he arrived in front of his garage, you were there. Looking down at your phone, you were quickly typing until your thumb was hovering over the send button. When you sensed someone watching you, you looked up and your eyes met Franco’s. So as you were exchanging eye contact with him, you finally decided on sending your text before putting your phone back into your pocket and walking towards Franco.

However, it hadn’t been Franco that you had texted. The Argentinian had only sent you a short message telling you that he would wait for you at the Williams hospitality, to which you hadn’t thought it necessary to reply as you had already been there. No, the person you had texted was none other than Lewis as you felt like he deserved a thank you for going along with your plan.

Thanks for being a great wingman, I’ll buy you a drink<3

You wouldn’t see it immediately as Franco had just offered you to have lunch with him – which you obviously accepted, but Lewis had answered you shortly after:

Save me a seat at the wedding and we’ll be even

(also lewis makes for a great baby name if you have a boy)

..........

I hope y'all liked this as much as i liked writing it🫶🏻 don't hesitate to comment or reblog if you appreciate my work, it always means a lot to me!!

Side note: I've been extremely unwell since the season ended😭 despite 2024 being my 1st season, I've grown attached to f1 sooo quickly that i missed it every time there was only a two weeks break and now we're acc gonna starve for 3 months🧍🏻‍♀️ and the fact that dts is being released in march is insane bc wdym we can't even have that during the off season

Anywayyys see you next time, take care of yourselves, and happy holidays🤍

[monzabee]

the cold shoulder - a. hotchner

criminal minds masterlist || part of the nanny series

Summary: hotch’s nanny has been icing him out, he can’t figure out why!  

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Word Count: 3k  

Warnings: the word shit is used like twice, silent treatment, jack is on reader’s side, clueless hotch 

Author’s Note: okay i was supposed to get out some requests tonight, but i am so sick that i can barely think, so this is my i'm sorry fic to all of you!

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Ever the man of order, you know Hotch likes to have a set order in his life—and at his house. Not the military kind which would raise all the little hairs on your neck, no. But the kind where everything is set to a routine. It’s something he has asked you to implement with his son.  

It’s something you’re not particularly fond of, especially being the spontaneously chaotic person you are in Hotch’s eyes, but you suppose it provides a security blanket for Jack. Jack knows his routine well. He knows that on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school, he needs to get ready for soccer practice. He knows that his homework needs to be done before 6 PM, so that he can watch some TV. And most importantly, he knows that he should be in bed by 8.30 PM, even if his father is away though he also knows that his dad will probably wake him up if he’s late just to ask him about his day, but if not, he will at least give him a goodnight kiss.  

And so, Aaron Hotchner likes order and routine. So does his son. You don’t particularly care for it, and so you decide to make it his problem. 

The house is quiet, way too quiet when Hotch makes it home. He looks at his watch to check the time—12.07 AM. He’d expect you to be watching TV in the living room or perhaps reading one of your romance novels he likes to tease you about, but you are nowhere to be found. You are not in the kitchen, or the laundry room, or anywhere else Hotch can think of other than your room. And since barging into your room to check if you are okay or not is not an option, he retreats into his own room after giving Jack a goodnight kiss. 

The next morning, however, he wonders if he’s entered an alternate universe. To start things off, Jack is giving him the cold shoulder—which is weird, considering he never does, and so are you. He watches the both of you eat your bowls of cereal and sharing Jack’s comic book. He’s telling you about the context, and what happened in an earlier issue, and you’re listening to him with your undivided attention. Secondly, you are dressed. And though Aaron Hotchner is the epitome of propriety, he is also a man. A man, who has seen you in your dressing gown every morning since you’ve started working for him. Hotch stares for a moment longer than he should. He’s not used to seeing you like this first thing in the morning—fully dressed, hair done, looking like you’re ready to walk out the door instead of lounging in your usual dressing gown, making coffee while teasing him about his stern morning face. It’s unsettling. 

Hotch clears his throat, setting his coffee mug down a little louder than necessary. Neither of you look up. Jack continues flipping through the pages, explaining every little detail to you in a way that makes Hotch’s heart soften—except for the fact that it’s usually him Jack tells these things to. 

He watches as you nod along, smiling at Jack’s enthusiastic explanations. “That’s pretty cool, buddy,” you say, ruffling his hair. “But what about this guy? He looks kind of shady.” 

“Oh, he is,” Jack replies seriously, turning another page. “But he’s not really a bad guy, just misunderstood.” 

Hotch raises an eyebrow. How ironic. “Jack,” Hotch tries again, keeping his voice even. “You almost ready for school?” 

Jack hums, not looking up. “Yep.” A pause. No ‘good morning, Daddy.’ No excited chatter about his day. Just ‘yep’. Hotch’s brows furrow. His gaze shifts to you, but you’re not even pretending to acknowledge his presence. He takes another sip of coffee, his mind scanning over the last few days. Had he done something? Forgotten something?  

It must be obvious that he’s staring because you finally glance up, meeting his eyes for the briefest second before turning your attention back to Jack. Jack, who after a moment of silence mutters, “Actually, I want Y/N to take me to school today.” He turns to you, puppy eyes in full effect, “Can you?” 

Oh, this is definitely intentional. 

“Sure thing, Jack.” You agree, still not throwing even a single glance at Hotch’s direction.  

Hotch’s jaw tightens, though he keeps his expression neutral. He may be an expert in profiling, but even without any specialized training, it’s painfully clear that both his son and his nanny are icing him out on purpose. And the worst part? He still doesn’t know why. 

He exhales slowly, placing his mug down on the counter with deliberate patience. “Jack,” he starts, keeping his voice measured, “I always take you to school.” 

Jack shrugs, flipping another page in his comic. “I want Y/N to take me today, she already said she would, so there shouldn’t be any problem,” he says simply, as if that explains everything. 

Hotch’s gaze flickers between you and his son, trying to piece together the silent rebellion unfolding before him. Jack’s stubborn set of his jaw, the way you won’t even look at him—it’s all too methodical, too intentional. He’s spent years interrogating criminals and reading between the lines, and right now, the message is loud and clear: He messed up. 

But how? 

Jack suddenly slides off his chair, grabbing his backpack from the floor. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” he announces, running off toward the bathroom. 

Now it’s just the two of you. 

Hotch waits a beat, watching as you casually continue eating your cereal like you haven’t been icing him out since last night. “Did I do something?” he finally asks. 

You don’t look up. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

Hotch exhales sharply, setting his mug down again. “I would like to know, actually.” 

“Hmm.” You tilt your head, as if considering it. “Too bad.” 

Hotch narrows his eyes slightly. “Y/N.” 

You finally look up at him, expression neutral. “Aaron.” 

The way you say his name sends a shiver down his spine, and not in the way it usually does. He’s used to your teasing, even occasional flirting that he so indulgently returns sometimes. But right now, your voice is cold, and even uncaring. “I get the feeling I’m in trouble,” he says slowly, carefully. 

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Wow, you are a profiler.” 

Hotch presses his lips into a thin line, his patience thinning. He watches as you get out of your place and bring both bowls to the sink. Hotch crosses his arms, leaning back against the counter. “So you are punishing me.” 

You shrug, still not looking at him. “I just think it’s funny.” 

His eyes narrow slightly. “Funny how?” 

You hum thoughtfully, finally shutting off the faucet and drying your hands. “Oh, nothing. Just funny.” You glance over at Jack in the other room, then back at Hotch, a ghost of a smirk on your lips. “You’ll figure it out.” 

That is not what he wants to hear. “Y/N—” 

Jack comes bounding back into the kitchen before he can press further, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Ready!” 

“Let’s hit the road then,” you say, ruffling his hair before grabbing your keys. 

Hotch watches as Jack slips past him without so much as a goodbye, the silent treatment continuing in full force. He clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to call his son back. Instead, his gaze flickers back to you. You offer him a parting smile—sweet, smug, and just a little too satisfied. And just like that, you and Jack are out the door, leaving Hotch standing alone in his own kitchen, frustration brewing. 

He hates not knowing. But one thing is certain. 

He messed up. And now he has to figure out how. 

After a long day of paperwork, and Dave’s unrelenting teasing, he is glad to be back at home. Though after what happened earlier in the day, he is still frustrated because he is nowhere close to figuring out what he has done wrong to warrant a cold shoulder from not only his son, but also you. He’s not used to feeling like a stranger in his own house, but that’s exactly how he feels right now. 

Jack’s school bag is tossed on the living room couch, and the TV is playing some old movie on low, the sound barely reaching him. He doesn’t see you at first, but then he hears the soft sound of your voice from the kitchen. He hesitates for a moment at the doorway, just watching. You’re standing with your back to him, rinsing out a mug, the gentle sound of water filling the quiet space between you as you continue talking to Jack about his day. He is standing on a step stool next to you, dutifully drying the items you place onto the drying rack. 

You don’t turn around when you hear his footsteps, but the smallest shift in your posture tells him that you’re aware of him. Jack, at least acknowledges him by giving him a shy smile, but then he silently giggles as he hides his face on your shoulder. 

“I thought you’d still be working,” you say, your tone casual, but there’s an edge to it that makes him bristle slightly. 

“I finished up early,” Hotch replies, his voice coming out flat despite his best attempt at sounding normal. He steps further into the kitchen, watching you carefully, trying to gauge the situation, but you continue washing the dishes as if he hasn’t just walked in after a long day.  

You let out an acknowledging hum, turning to Jack as you mumble, “Why don’t you wash your hand before dinner, buddy?” 

Hotch’s eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t say anything as you continue to direct Jack through the small tasks of getting ready for dinner. It’s clear that you’re not rushing to acknowledge him, and it’s starting to gnaw at him. He’s trying to keep his frustration in check, but the silence between you two, the distance, is apparent. 

Jack obediently hops off the step stool, his little feet padding across the floor toward the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. The sound of running water follows Jack’s footsteps, but neither of you move. Hotch clears his throat, trying to shake off the unease that’s settling deeper into his chest. “I’ve been thinking about this morning.” 

You don’t respond right away. Instead, you place a dish into the drying rack, your movements deliberate, a little slower than usual, as if giving yourself time to consider how you want to react. Finally, you turn to face him, but your eyes don’t quite meet his. They flicker just past him, the tension between you two growing thicker. 

“I’m sure you have,” you say, your voice now cooler than it was earlier that morning. 

“Have I done something wrong?” He asks, the frustration he’s been bottling up all day creeping into his voice. “Are you mad at me?” 

You take a step back, leaning against the counter, arms crossed loosely over your chest.  “I don’t know, did you do something to make me mad?” You ask, confusing him even further. “Because then, I am. But if you didn’t I am not.” 

“I... didn’t?” He says, though it comes out more as a question, rather than the answer you are looking for. 

“Then I am not mad, Mister Hotchner.” You turn back, moving along the counter to focus on attention on the salad you’re making, but he hears the faint words you murmur under your breath.  

Grump. 

Hotch exhales through his nose, pressing his lips into a tight line. This is getting ridiculous. He’s interrogated criminals with less patience than this, and yet, here he is, standing in his own kitchen, being toyed with like a rookie. “You’re punishing me,” he states. It’s not a question. 

You barely react, slicing a cucumber with precise, measured movements. “Am I?” 

“Yes,” he says firmly. “And I still don’t know why.” 

You hum, noncommittal. “That sounds like a you problem, boss.” 

Not ‘Boss Man’. Not ‘Mister Hotchner’. Boss.  

Hotch narrows his eyes. Oh, you’re enjoying this. That little smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, it’s subtle, but it’s there. You want him to figure it out, to put the pieces together like one of his cases. But unlike his cases, he doesn’t have evidence to go off of, just silence, side-eyes, and Jack’s very deliberate allegiance to your cause. He thinks back to the last few days, replaying conversations, interactions—anything that might have set this in motion. But nothing stands out. 

“What did I do?” he asks again, voice lower now, controlled but edged with frustration. 

You finally look at him, really look at him, and for a split second, he thinks you might crack. But instead, you shake your head with a soft, almost pitying sigh. “I expected more from you.” 

Ouch. That lands harder than it should. He doesn’t know why, but it does. 

Before he can press further, Jack’s footsteps echo back into the kitchen, and just like that, the moment is gone. “Can I help with anything else?” Jack asks, grinning up at you. 

“Nope, we’re all set, buddy,” you reply, ruffling his hair. “Let’s get dinner on the table.” 

Hotch clenches his jaw, watching as Jack pulls out plates and hands them to you, watching as you smile at his son while still barely acknowledging his presence. He watches the two of you chat jovially over dinner about your day. He can’t figure out what he did, and he can’t get answers from either of you—it's ridiculous. He’s interrogated grown people, hardened criminals, the worst of humankind, actual serial killers, yet he’s defeated by his son and nanny.  

Hotch spends the rest of dinner in frustrated silence, chewing over the events of the past day like a case file he just can’t crack. You and Jack chat like normal—well, mostly normal, considering that ‘normal’ would typically include him. But tonight, it's like he’s on the outside looking in. 

And he hates it. 

After dinner, Jack clears his plate without being asked and, for the first time in a long time, doesn’t ask his dad to help him brush his teeth. Instead, he turns to you. “Y/N, can you help me get ready for bed?” 

Hotch doesn’t miss the deliberate way his son avoids looking at him. The kid is committed. “Of course, buddy, I’ll come up,” you reply, sending Hotch a quick glance, one that carries the unmistakable glint of you still don’t get it, do you? before you follow Jack up the stairs. 

Hotch exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. The interrogation tactics continue. Fine. He collects the dishes, rinsing them with the efficiency of a man who needs to do something with his hands, all while replaying every interaction he’s had with you and Jack over the past twenty-four hours. 

And then it hits him. 

The cookies. 

More specifically, the cookie disaster. Last night, you and Jack had decided to bake cookies. From scratch. A seemingly innocent activity, except it had unfolded like an organized crime scene—flour dusted over the counters, chocolate chips everywhere, and Jack, laughing the entire time as he got more ingredients on himself than in the mixing bowl. 

And Hotch… had not been amused. 

He had walked into the kitchen, exhausted from case reports, only to find his once-pristine space looking like a sugar-fueled tornado had torn through it. He’d sighed, run a hand through his hair, and muttered something about how some people actually like having a clean kitchen. 

Jack had immediately looked guilty. You, on the other hand, had raised an eyebrow and said, “Some people actually like to have fun, too.” 

And that was it. No yelling, no actual scolding—just Hotch being the grumpy, tired, neat-freak dad, accidentally dampening the excitement of a six-year-old and the very fun nanny who was clearly keeping score. Hotch exhales through his nose, pressing his lips into a thin line. Well. That explains this little rebellion. 

Later that night, when the house is quiet, he finds you downstairs in the kitchen, scrolling through your phone as you sip from your usual mug. You don’t acknowledge him when he walks in. 

That’s fine. He has a plan. 

Wordlessly, Hotch reaches up to the highest cabinet, where Jack can’t reach, and pulls down a Tupperware container. He sets it on the counter with a quiet thud before popping off the lid. 

Inside are the cookies from last night. The ones he had, admittedly, grumbled about. The ones Jack had been so excited to make. The ones you had deliberately left untouched on the counter after dinner. 

You finally glance at him, unimpressed. 

Hotch picks up a cookie, inspecting it like he’s analyzing evidence. Then, he takes a slow, deliberate bite. And—okay. They’re good. Not just edible, but actually really good. But that’s not the point. 

He chews, swallows, then, without looking at you, he mutters, “Best cookies I’ve ever had.” 

There’s a beat of silence. Then—  

“You’re full of shit.” He hides his smirk behind another bite. “You’re so full of shit,” you repeat, but your voice is lighter now. 

“Language,” he murmurs, which only makes you roll your eyes. But then, finally, you smile. It’s small, but it’s there. A crack in the ice. A sign that the war is almost over. Hotch picks up another cookie, handing it to you. You hesitate for a second, then take it. “So…" he starts, feigning innocence, "does this mean you’ll stop weaponizing my own child against me?” 

You take a slow bite, considering. “Maybe.” 

“Maybe?” He raises an eyebrow. 

You shrug, chewing thoughtfully. “Depends.” 

"On?" 

You tilt your head, eyes gleaming with amusement. “On whether or not you help clean next time.” You pause for a second, “And you have to apologize to Jack, too.” 

Hotch exhales a laugh, shaking his head as he leans back against the counter. “Done.” 

You smirk, holding up your cookie in mock cheers. "Then I suppose I could forgive you, Mister Hotchner." 

The war is over.  

For now. 

[abbyssgf]

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧’

• concept: you go to one of your friends party with your bestfriend, Sevika. You didn't tell her but you have a feelings for her but who knows what could happen during the party? (modern au)

• words: around 3,5k (i got a little carried away)

• warnings: nsfw, sevika eats reader out, soft dom!sevika and sub!reader, alcohol, cigarettes, sevika call' reader pet names; "baby", "darling", "sweetheart", etc. yeah I think that's all

• author note: it's my first published fanfic and I hope you'll like it guys especially sevika lovers (love ya guys) I had so much fun writing it and have fun reading this fanfic!😜💕 (also english is not my first language so if i've made some mistakes then i'm sorry!!)

You were getting ready for Ran's party, from around 4.p.m to 5.p.m. You did yourself makeup, did your hair and chose your perfect outfit for a party; white top and black skirt (with small pants underneath for safety). Actually was an a 5:30.p.m and you heard your phone got a text, you reached up for your phone and saw a test from your bestfriend, sevika, a message

"hang up, darlin', I'm in front of your apartment"

You smiled reading this. You and sevika were besfriends, nothing more…at least that was the thought you've tried to believe. You've always had a crush on sevika, her muscles, her perfect lips, her brown eyes, her dark hair and just her…she is perfect. But you didn't want to make things between you two uncomfortable so you didn't tell sev that you like her, more than just a friend.

Finally you take your purse and pack things in it such as your phone, charger, tissues, tampons (for an emergency), your lipstick and some chewing gums. You put your purse on your shoulder, you put your shoes on, take the keys from your apartment and leave your house locking your doors behind you.

The first thing you saw was sevika's car in front of your house, waiting for you. You smiled under your breath when you saw sevika next to her car, sevika's car was mixed up with black and purple color. She smiled at you when you came closer to her.

"you look amazing" sevika said to you and slight blush came at your cheeks and you hope that sevika didn't notice this, 'cause it would be awkward because she is your friend

"Thanks, vika, you look great too" you replied to her with a gentle smile on your face.

Sevika's hair was arranged on gel, she had lines made with black ink, and was wearing a black shirt without sleeves that emphasized her arm muscles and black elegant pants, you could feel how riled up you started to be only by looking at sevika in this outfit which only make her sexier, you cleared your throat "lets go, we don't want to be late don't we?" you said to sevika.

she smiled at you nodding her head, she opened the passenger door to you. you said a little 'thanks' and you got into a car a few seconds later sevika got into her driver seat, closing the door behind her and she started to drive towards Ran's house. a silence was between two so you decided to ask sev if you could put some music on so the drive wouldn't be so silent between two but of course you know that you or sevika don't mind the silence cause it was comfortable in some way.

you connected your phone to sevika's car and opened spotify

"hey, I'm gonna play the new song of Billie Eilish, 'kay?" you said to sevika and she nodded focused on the road. you open the song named 'guess' from billie eilish and charli xcx the song filled the car with lyrics and you listened to it singing softly words under your breath meanwhile sevika listened to the words and smirked while listening to your voice.

after a while you saw familiar home of your friend and soon sevika parked in front of the house of Ran, you both got out of the car and sevika gave you a small smile "ready to go?" she asked you and you smiled wilde "yeah, lets have some fucking fun" and with that you caught sevika's hand and you dragged her with you to Ran's house and a small blush on sevika's checks passed unnoticed by you.

you and sevika entered the house and you were immediately greeted by loud music coming probably from the living room, the kitchen, which was visible from the entrance to the house, had a lot of food on the table, from healthy things to sweet and salty snacks and alcohol. well the party was just starting, but you could already feel the adrenaline in your body and excitement filled your body, you said hello to some of your friends and sevika also greeted her friends.

you go to the kitchen, grab a glass and you poured yourself some alcohol that was within your reach, few moments later sevika stand next to you and do the same, the alcohol immediately appeared in your body and you breathed a sigh of relief as you felt your body relax under the influence of the drink. sevika looked at herself from the corner of her eye, looking at you and she made a mental note to check on you later from time to time 'cause she was concerned that you'll drink a lot of more than you usually do (you never didn't drink more than usual but she was still concerned about you).

between those two hours you drink more alcohol but not that many that you wouldn't recognize where you are and sevika comes to your side from time to time to check how you are feeling. Actually you were chatting with one of your friend, Olivia talking about everything that crossed your mind, laughing with her and you two were sitting on the couch. While chatting you noticed that sevika went out to the terrace, probably to smoke a cigarette. lately you didn't talk with her so you decided to go after her.

"sorry, im gonna talk to sevika. i'll be right back, okay?" you said to Olivia and she just nodded. you got up from the couch and you headed to the terrace after sevika. since it was autumn, cold weather hit you when you stopped at the terrace and you stood next to sevika smiling gently "you're having fun?" you asked her looking at her, sevika raised her eyebrow and huffed "aren't you cold?" she asked looking at your outfit up and down. you shrugged "i'll be fine, I will back to the house in a moment" you replied looking at sevika when she lighted her cigarette and she put it to her lips and she wrapped her muscular hand around your waist, pulling you close to her to keep you warm, at least for a moment

your check went slightly pink because of the cold but also because of the feeling sevika arm around you and her hand on your waist. "yeah" sevika murmured her response to your question then she pulled out of her lips the cigarette rolling her head to sideways and she blew smoke from her mouth while she do it your gaze slipped softly do sevika's lips and your mind started to wondering how her lips would feel against yours you didn't know but sevika's thoughts where exactly the same she was wondering god knows how long how your lips would feel against her, how soft would be your neck while she would prepare it with her kisses. without even noticing you came closer to sevika maybe you did it because you weren't thinking while looking at her lips or the alcohol you drank added your body some confidence to do what you wanted for a long time.

"you have a beautiful lips" you murmured under your breath, sevika's eyes widened slightly and she felt her heart beat faster for a moment, quickly she smirked and looked at you "oh yeah?" she answered cocky and the smell of cigarettes filled your nostrils "you know your lips are pretty too, they look really kissable" she said and you giggled "you wanna find out is that true?" you asked and when sevika heard those words she dropped her cigarette, you didn't even have a moment to react and her lips where already on your while she pressed her body against your, her hand tightened on your waist even more and her second hand embraced the back of your neck missing you softly.

you grinned when she started kissing you and you replied with the same gentle kiss, sevika kissed you like she was exploring softly new territory, excited and happiness filled your body just like hers. you wrapped your arms gently around sevika's neck bringing her closer to you. now you could respond to your question, her lips against your feels…amazing and you wish you could kiss those lips every day until you'll die.

sevika slowly moved away and her gaze immediately went to your eyes and she smiled, letting out a breath as the tension disappeared from her body as she did what she had wanted for a long time as she approached you; to kiss your lips "I like the taste of yours lips on mine" she said softly and you giggled "yeah, I can say that about yours too". for a moment you two were silent, just looking at each other's eyes.

sevika looked around and kissed the corner of your lips "you want to get to a warmer place, darlin'?" she asked and you nodded immediately answering "god, yes let's get out of here". The two of you grabbed your own hands together and returned to Ran's house to go upstairs. music was playing in the background and you could hear other people talking and laughing but you couldn't even care while sevika's hand were around yours and you two were going upstairs.

you entered the first room you found and sevika closed the door behind you two. your eyes met and sevika wrapped her arms around your waist bringing you again closer to her. you could feel that your heart was buzzing with excitement. sevika smiled looking at you and her thumb crossed a gentle circles on your waist. you leaned closer to her and you closed your lips in kiss this time it wasn't as soft as the first time, now it was more confident.

sevika's tongue brushed against your lower lip as if asking for access to your mouth, you let sevika's tongue slipped into your mouth and she started exploring your soft lips. at the feeling you let a soft quiet moan and you felt how sevika's hand tighten on your waist when she heard it.

unfortunately sevika pulled away and looked into your eyes "wait" she said and took a deep breath before she started speaking "before we will continue…this. I want to know if you really want this, sweetheart, If not I won't do anything without your permiss-" you cut her speaking with a kiss on her mouth. sevika raised her eyebrows "did you just kiss me to shut me up?" she asked and you shrugged "no?" you said with a smirk on your face. sevika huffed and rolled her eyes playfully

"sevy" you started with one of her nicknames you often used "I drank alcohol but i'm not that drunk to not have control over my body, yes i want to do it and I want you to continue this" while you were speaking sevika listen you carefully. she smiled and leaned to you "good, 'cause I want you to remember I'm gonna do to you right now" she whispered to your ear with her sultry voice and your body shivered.

she pulled you into a kiss, her lips where donating over yours and she started to tugging you into a bad which was at the end of the room. after a moment you felt a soft mattress under you and you could felt sevika's smile on your lips. you wrapped your arms around her neck while kissing her teasing the taste of her mouth. the heat between you two started to be more intense and overwhelming

"vika, I-…I want you" you whimpered into her lips and you could hear a soft little moan that escape sevika's lips. "I know, baby, I want you too" she murmured into your lips and she moved away just enough to look at you. both of you were looking into each other's eyes.

sevika's rough, sultry, hoarse voice filled the room when she started to speak looking straight into your eyes "I want to taste you, darlin'" she murmured and you smiled. with a smile on your face you started to take off your white top while keeping eye contact with sevika all the time. sevika growled when she saw that you do it really slowly just to tease her, she put her hands on yours and helps you to take faster your top off of you, her gaze leaned on your white bra with a bow between your tits and her lips stretched into a smirk

"you like it, huh?" you asked in a testing voice "you don't even know how much, baby" she murmured. she leaned closer to your neck and started to shower it firstly with soft kisses but the longer she was kissing you the passionately her kisses were getting. you moaned and placed your hand on her back. you could feel how sevika's hand on the back of your bra was unbuttoning it, easily taking it off of you and she threw your bra somewhere behind you two, she didn't even care where it would fall.

one of her large hand cupped your breast and you moaned feeling the heat that was between you two. you slipped your hands underneath sevika's shirt and tugged at it "sevika, take if off" you whimpered to her "no way in hell that you're undressing me and you'll stay in your clothes" sevika chuckled at your words, she kissed you on your lips and her hand squeezed your breast before she moved away and with a quick move she took off her shirt with a smirk on her lips clearly knowing you wanted to see her naked as much as she wanted to see you naked and beneath her.

"Whatever you say, baby" she said with a smile on her face and you could see a twinkle in her eye with excitement.

you rolled your eyes playfully seeing her that smirk and you grabbed her by her shoulders and you attracted her to another sloppy, passionate kiss. it wasn't that long until sevika started to kiss your neck again, then your shoulders, she went even lower having her head now between your breasts she she moved her head towards the right side and she filled your nipple with her lips sucking on it while her hand trapped your left breast and squeezed it and you let out a moan at the movement's

you felt how sevika bite your breast not enough to hurt you but enough to feel it, then with a crack she left her lips from your nipple and started to kiss your body lower, lower and lower showing to every centimeter of your body her love to you and how much. she worshiped you. you could feel how your core started to clench around nothing and pulsing turned on by sevika's movement. you couldn't wait when sevika would wrap her lips around your pussy and eat you out.

"sev" you moaned and you moved your hips frustrated and horny "please" you whimpered to her and you heard sevika's lower chuckle. "please what, baby? use words from the pretty mouth of you" she said smiling waiting for you to say what she really wanted to hear. "I need you, I need you sevika…please, sevy" you said to her and she smiled at your words "good" she murmured and she slipped her hands to your skirt and started to remove it off of you "legs up, darling" she said to you and you do it. With a quick move she removed it from you and threw it away.

sevika's gaze leaned on your light underwear and saw a small patch of your visible arousal, she smiled and the view and chuckled "damn, girl, you are already wet" she teased you and you moaned feeling a shiver that comes down to your core "shut up, sev, don't tease me" you whimpered to her. right now at this moment the only thing you wanted and needed is sevika between your legs.

sevika smiled and she slid off the bed only to kneel between your spread legs, she couldn't just wait to lay down her mouth on your clit but you have to wait just a little longer. she wrapped her muscular arms around your thighs and she pulled you closer to her and thanks to it sevika's head was between your inner thighs and you could even feel her breath on your skin.

"sevika" you moaned and slipped your hand to her black hair and she purred in approval at the move "hm?" she murmured looking up to you and your eyes looked down. god damn, sevika looked so hot between your legs you could come just by looking at her between your legs in front of your wet clint.

"…please" you whimpered and both of you couldn't wait any longer. sevika slid one of her hand under the waistband of your underwear and took off your underwear after a while. now while you were laying in front of her, naked, she'd felt a shiver down her spine as a wave of excitement, arousal and desire flooded her body.

"im gonna take care of you now, okay baby?" sevika said to you and without waiting for you response she leaned closer to your pussy and she covered your pussy with her lips. you moaned and the new feeling of sevika's lips on your pussy, it felt so good that the only thing your mind could think and focus is sevika between your legs and her mouth on your pussy.

At first, her sucking and licking was slow, as if she was enjoying her favorite dessert but when she felt how you tugged her by her hair as a quiet 'faster' she smirked and murmured between her licks "you want faster, baby, yeah?" you only could moan at her words and push her face further into your pussy

sevika moaned too and she didn't hesitate to go faster. her tongue rode between your folds then her mouth sucked your package. she was fully enjoying herself just by teasing you. you could feel how your orgasm started to come and you moaned "sevika…sevika, i'm close" you said to her and you only felt how her tongue started to work even faster sending a whole new heat towards your body.

to add more pleasure for you, sevika placed her thumb on your clit and started circling it. you moaned at the feeling and your thighs started to tremble a little showing that you are getting closer to orgasm, sevika notice's it and smiled murmured into your clit without stopping her movements "c'mon, sweetheart, come for me" she murmured and only a few moment's It was enough for you to come with a moan, barely able to keep from closing your legs around Sevika's face.

you groaned, rolling your eyes back as you laid your head on the mattress as you recovered from your orgasm trying to steady your breath. sevika smiled looking up at you observing how your body reacted after she brought you pleasure. she got up from her knees and leaned over until she was above you, with a smile on her face she leaned and kissed you on your lips and you could tease the feeling of your pleasure.

"you're the prettiest mess, baby" sevika whispered to you and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You smiled softly at her words and sighed after the orgasm. but then you tense up a little remembering that…both of you haven't told each other anything yet whether you are friends or... maybe something more, but after all of this you could sense that sevika wanted you as much as you wanted her.

"…sevika" you stated, sevika hearing you didn't call her by one of her nicknames that you gave her she frowned a little and became more serious "yeah, baby?" she asked so easily using one of the pet names she knew you loved.

"what...what are we?" you asked her. you were thinking that she would tense like you but no, she only smiled even more and chuckled slightly "you know what we are you just want to hear it" she said to you and leaned closer to you. her gaze slipped down to your lips and then to your eyes "I love you" she said with a gentle look at her eyes and you could feel happiness on your chest. "i love you too, sevy" you replied to her and kissed her gently on her lips "…so we're girlfriends?" you whispered and sevika nodded with a big, delicate smile on her face "yeah. you're my girlfriend, baby" she said to you and she captured your lips in a kiss to seal her words.

[bluudsucka]

i'm so tender on you - stack m. x fem!reader

summary: the smokestack twins left mississippi for bigger and better things, they were big fishes in a small pond, but that doesn't negate the sting you felt when stack, your boyfriend, left town without a uttering a word about it to you. not even call nor a letter to let you know he was safe in the big city of chicago. rumors on the streets about the twins return bubbled over - they were hosting a cookout and the whole neighborhood was invited - including you.

word count: 8k

warnings: smut, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex, slight mentions of cheating, slight toxic dynamics, slight mentions of drugs, set in the 90s, light mary slander (lmaoo)

author's note: ahahaa i had a lot of fun writing this ya'll omg, this one is pretty long i just couldn't help myself!! thanks for reading ya'll much appreciated <3

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

The faint sounds of Saturday morning cartoons muffled within the background of your room; it was hot today - unbearably so, and it killed you that the AC in your bedroom was busted. Your grandpa said he'd get it fix, urging you not to waste your money on a new one. One thing about your grandad - he was a staunch penny pincher - always claiming he could fix something. Stating that your generation couldn't keep money in their pockets if their life depended on it. Always splurging on unnecessary 'foolishness'. But it seemed like every time he would tinker with your AC the worse it got.

You were gonna go out and buy one today, preparing for a long winded lecture - but you'd rather hear his complaints than sitting in a hot ass house. Your niece, who was only eight years old, sat on the floor at the foot of your bed. Her brown eyes watched the cartoon in front of her intensely, Tom and Jerry was her favorite - and the only cartoon you'd tolerate watching with her. You just got done doing her hair, the twist were held in place with pink Bobos with white and pink butterfly barrettes at end of the twist.

You were glad to be done with her hair - the girl was tender headed and it felt like you were entering a boxing match every time you attempted to comb and brush through her thick tresses. You hunched over on the bed, painting your toe nails with your favorite red nail polish from your local beauty supply and your head rested on the phone that was between your shoulder and ear - listening to your best friend, Pearline, on the other side of the phone.

She wanted you to go to a kickback with her; she was messing with Sammie aka Preacher Boy who lived around the block from you. She would gush about him saying that he was the sweetest man she'd ever been with - not to mention he had the best head - telling you stories about how good he would eat her out. You would spit out a: "Girl!" every time she would share a little too much, but you were happy for her - maybe a tad bit jealous too.

You didn't want Sammie - he was like a little brother to you; it was his older cousin that made your heart race. You and Stack had a thing in the past, the relationship was heavy, intense, and passionate. You genuinely thought that he could be the one, but out of the blue he left Mississippi - with his twin brother in tow - without uttering a word about it to you. And to makes matters worse the week that he up and ghosted you found out he was fucking another girl on the side.

Mary.

You were heart broken, blowing up his pager in hopes to get some sort of answers from him - but he ignored you like the plague. Which meant you two were done.

"Who all gone be there?" You asked Pearline, careful hands slowly painted your big toe with cherry nail polish.

"Everybody, that's why you should come - it'll be fun!" She replied, you could tell she was hiding something from you.

"Who is everybody?"

A pause lingered onto the conversation, which earned an eye roll from you.

Of course...He'd be there.

News spread like wild fire around the neighborhood about the twins coming back home; you couldn't avoid the whispers about them. You were cool with Smoke - even though he kept to himself and was hard to read, but you knew he was a genuine man that held good morals within his heart.

But Stack?

He was a trifling ass man who only looked out for himself - though you did admire his fierce loyalty he had for his brother and little cousin, Sammie. But you wished that his loyalty extended towards you.

"I'm not goin', sorry sis. You have fun, though." You said cutting through the tension between you and Pearline - which made her sigh in annoyance.

"You not even gonna see him, I doubt he'd be there."

"Isn't the party at Smoke's place? You think his twin brother ain't gonna be there? Please, Stack follows Smoke around like his damn shadow." You shot back in a matter of fact tone. She couldn't argue against you about it - you were right.

If you saw one twin, the other was close by.

"Please, please come with me! I know you're still raw about it--"

"You goddamn right I'm still raw. Pearline, he left me without giving me the courtesy of tellin' me and on top of that, after everything I did for his sorry ass, he went and fucked that bitch Mary!" You shouted, cutting your friend off in the middle of her sentence.

"Swear words." Your baby niece chimed in, ear hustling the conversation you had on the phone, she couldn't understand what you were talking about due to her age, but you gave her a light mean mug - not serious enough to hurt her feelings.

"You stay outta grown folks business, watch the show or Imma kick you out my room." You reprimanded which made the girl turn her attention back onto the cartoon. A chuckle hit your ear again, Pearline's light laughter made you playfully roll your eyes.

"Look, sis. I get it - I do. But I know you don't wanna be sittin' in that hot ass house sad all night. Come out with me! Enjoy some good food, music, 'allat stuff. Fuck him, don't let him ruin your mood," she then paused as and you could tell she was smiling from ear to ear. "And some fine ass men will be there - single. It's about time you broke that dry spell."

You thought about the words she said and you thought about the pros and cons of going to the party. The pros: free booze, free bud, good music, great food, seeing friends, and potentially getting flattered by some fine ass dudes.

Cons: Elias "Stack" Moore.

"If I come you better make sure you keep him away from me." You whispered out, closing the nail polish and placing it on your wooden end table, a high pitch static scream of excitement pierced your ear through the phone - a smile clinging to your face.

"Ah! Of course! I'll come over at three - I need you to fix my hair; this girl I went to fucked me up."

"I told you! You should've just waited for me to do it."

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

If it was hot inside - it was scorching outside. Sweat already formed on your body as you and Pearline walked side by side towards Smoke's home - the sound of music blast through the speakers and the smell of barbeque floated within the air made your mouth slightly water. You were ready to dance and eat. Tucking your braids behind your ear, you Pearline towards the backyard were the party resided. Opening the chain linked gate - her eyes lit up as she saw Sammie walking towards her.

"Hey, baby," He said, planting a tender kiss on her lips, holding her close towards his body. His brown irises then landed on you, giving you a warm smile. "Whatssup?" Sammie greeted you and you gave him a quick hello.

"I didn't think you was coming." Sammie chuckled out as his arm wrapped around Pearline's shoulders, lovingly leaning his weight slightly on her smaller frame.

"I wasn't - but your lil' girlfriend forced me." You jested back, which made Pearline dramatically gasp, her hand playfully slapping the warm skin on your arm.

"Sounds like her, c'mon, it's hot out here, I know you ladies could use a cold drink." Sammie tilted his head back towards the crowd that danced in the large backyard, signaling for you to follow him. The thumping of music reverberated through your body as you followed behind the couple, passing the speakers and towards the multiple coolers, 'hellos' rolling off of your lips as you briefly greeted familiar faces you saw around the neighborhood. Pearline was right - everyone was here.

"Water, beer, soda, or juice?" Sammie asked.

"Water, please." Pearline spoke as she rubbed Sammie's back, her giddy smile never fading.

"Ugh, ya'll don't got liquor?" You asked, trying your best to mask your slightly annoyed face - but Sammie could tell you weren't feeling the options he gave. With a chuckle, handing Pearline a water bottle he spoke: "We don't, technically. It's bring your own booze - but since we know you; ask Smoke, he got some stashed away, only for family."

"And I'm guessing that's the same for bud, too?" You asked with crossed arms, and Sammie nodded.

"Yea', but you're a girl, I doubt you have trouble findin' somebody who let you face a blunt or two." Sammie shrugged, which earned a jab to the side from Pearline, he quickly reassured he was only kidding.

But you knew there was some truth to within his joke. You're a pretty girl - and most of these men at the party were thirsty just to be in your presence.

"Well I ain't gonna hover over ya'll all night, I'm gonna find Smoke - I need a shot," you said but before you left you took one last gaze at Pearline, her brown eyes gazing back at you knowingly. "Make sure he don't come nowhere near me - let me know if you see him..."

"Mhm, don't worry about it." She replied.

Pushing through the crowd your eyes scanned multiple faces, trying to find the older twin within all the commotion. Couples grind against each other, oldheads getting drunk off of beers, and multiple friend groups huddled up. Some playing cards while others shared neighborhood gossip. The backyard was packed and you were thankful that there were trees around, creating multiple shady spots to cool off when needed. Noticing a familiar face leaning against a tree you slyly walked over towards him, a soft smile clinging onto your plump lips.

"Ah! If it isn't lil' big brother!" You shouted slightly over the blaring music, making Smoke snap his head towards you. Chewing on a toothpick that rested in his mouth he dipped his head towards you in respect. Smoke looked so different than the last time you saw him, he was taller and he had a stronger built. Smoke was never a scrawny man - but you could tell that he's been in the gym as his thick biceps flex with each movements of his arms.

"Whatssup," Smoke said as a sliver of a smile danced on his lips. He gave you a side hug, squeezing your shoulder slightly before letting go of you. "How you been?"

"Been better, hangin' in there, you know how it is. But whatssup with you? The big city got too small for ya'll?" You asked, you were nosy and you were unsuccessfully dry begging some information on Stack - and it seemed like Smoke could tell your intentions. Yes, you didn't want to be around Stack - and yes, you despise that man. But you also still have some love for him, even if it pained you to admit that. He held you down through some of your darkest hours; during those days were you didn't have the strength to get out of bed. Sticking to guy code and loyalty to his little brother, Smoke wouldn't spill anything to you and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Somethin' like that." He muttered as his brown eyes flicked towards the crowd quickly, making sure that people wouldn't get too rowdy in his backyard.

"Mhm, still tightlipped as ever," you sighed, resting your hands on your hips. "Sammie told me to talk to you about getting some liquor - ya'll got tequila?"

"Light or dark?"

"Dark - you already know I don't drink that light shit." You answered. Smoke tilted his head towards his home, pulling the toothpick out of his mouth as he muttered - he didn't want the party patrons getting the idea of raiding his liquor cabinet. Or worse; pestering him to spare a bottle or two.

"Inside, pass the kitchen, turn on your left. Should see a cabinet with what you lookin for." Smoke quickly replied, his deep southern accent cutting through the loud bass of the music playing.

"Thanks, Smoke."

"Don't let nobody know where you got it from and keep them outta my house. Bad enough these folks trashin' my backyard."

You gave Smoke a wide and toothy smile - some of your teeth were covered in gold caps, they weren't permanents like Smoke's or Stack's - but you would always wear them when 'special' occasions happened. And besides Stack gifted them to you on your birthday; one of the gems that adorned your gold teeth was your birthstone.

Weaving through the dancing crowd your shoulders brushing against distant relatives and strangers you would see around the neighborhood. The sweet barbeque smoke curled into the thick summer air - the smell of cooked meat, spices, and vegetables cutting through the scent of sweat, weed smoke, and spilled beer. Passing through a group that huddled around a small folding table the sound of glass bottles clinking against each other and cheers made you smile.

Today was a good day, you loved being around such good vibrations.

Stepping up onto the cracked slab of the concrete patio, your hands yanked open the sticky glass sliding door that separated the backyard chaos and the calm empty house. The air inside of the home was cooler - quieter, and the shadows from the sun setting crept across the wooden floors. With a grunt you slide the door closed and the muffling bass of the music was still heard through the thick walls. Smoke's home smelled like strong incense, lemon scented cleaner, sage, and fresh linen.

Annie had definitely been here prior.

Moving with purpose now, the sound of your sneakers squeaking against the wooden floor revibrated through you and your eyes scanned for the liquor cabinet - following the directions Smoke gave you. Turning the corner your irises were met with a large brown cabinet that was filled to the brim with all sorts of spirits and drinks. Making a brisk track towards it your hand ghosted over the handle, pulling open the glass door and reaching in to grab the bottle of tequila. Reposado - your favorite.

The bottle was full and the glass was slightly cold under your warm hands, with a sigh of victory you turned on your heel to make your way back outside. But then you paused. Standing in the small hallway of the home your eyes lingered on the golden sunrays that pooled onto the floor, the front door of the home was open, only the thin mesh of the screen door was holding back the bugs and summer air from entering. You knew Smoke wouldn't be the type to just let his front door wide open - even if him and half of the men in this party weren't lacking any 'peacekeepers', you're sure it would bother him if someone he didn't know would stumble into his home causing trouble.

Walking towards the open door in an attempt to close it shut, your legs turned into jelly and your heart raced as if you just got done running a marathon. Across the small stretch of dead grass on the front lawn and cracked pavement on the side walk, your irises lingered onto him.

Stack.

He sat lazily in the diver seat of the light brown lowrider, it's rims obnoxiously gaudy, they were gold and it seemed like wheels could barely fit the body of the car. The engine was off but he sat with the car door wide open, surrounded by some guys you met in passing through the neighborhood - his friends. Laughing too loud their words exchanged between each other were sharp and quick witted, yet long and casual like summer itself.

Stack was shining in gold like always, but now you've noticed he adorned more accessories than the last time you saw him. Multiple golden chains rested around his neck, gold glistening from the sunlight as he adjusted his watch that wrapped around his wrist, and the bright red color gem stones shined within the rings that he wore.

Smoke wore some jewelry too. Three chains - one of them was a Jesus piece - a watch and golden teeth just on the side of his mouth. His jewelry wasn't extravagant but anyone with a good eye could tell it was expensive. But Stack? He looked as if he was a pharaoh - the he himself was made out of gold.

A red tee balled up in Stack's lap, revealing his strong biceps and arms, the white tank top clung onto his skin and the soft cotton only accentuated his muscles even more. You remember those long winter nights of running your hands over his hard chest, feeling each and ever dip and valley of the muscles on his body. How your lips would kiss his abs, trailing down lower and lower...

He looked good.

All you could do was just watch and stare, the tequila bottle hanging loosely in your hands, dangerously close to dropping the glass bottle. Your reservations about seeing him melted away, you wanted to open the door and call out his name - to see if he still felt the same way about you. But then the memories of him ghosting you, ignoring any and all attempts of you reaching out to him; and the fact that he had another girl on the side made the butterflies in your stomach turn sickening.

With a bitter chuckle to yourself, you turned on your heel and made your way back towards the party.

This night will interesting to say the least.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

A few hours passed and the sky melted into a deep burnt orange color as the sun dipped behind the multiple rooftops, disappearing from the sky in due time. The orange and scorching glow washed over the multiple brown bodies that danced on the makeshift dancefloor, red plastic cups and sweat-slicked skin shined brightly within the summer afternoon.

The party didn't slow though - it only grew louder, brighter, more alive as more people showed up. You were feeling good - no, you were feeling great. The multiple shots of tequila you shared with Pearline pushed away all the negative emotions you felt hours prior, not to mention the sun that nipped at your skin made you a little bit sun-drunk. The burn of the liquor grounded you - and you were laughing again - joking with Pearline as you both swatting away dudes who couldn't get the hint that ya'll weren't interested.

You told Pearline that you saw Stack earlier and she asked if you wanted to leave - she reassured that she'd leave with you without complaints - but you told her it was fine, as long as Stack kept his distance you'd gladly stay.

"He's not gonna mess with you, sis. I got you" Pearline whispered in your ear with a supportive smile dancing on her lips. You nodded your head as you reached for the juice - using it as a chaser to kill the bite from the tequila shots. Both of you sat side by side on cheap plastic chairs, your knees touching against hers. Sammie who was once standing besides Pearline now stood in front of the patio, he was DJing now and your eyes would flick between Pearline and Sammie as she shouted cheers.

They were cute together, like lovesick school kids.

Sammie was in the zone, his head nodding with the thunderous beat and skillful fingers glide across the board, and the bass from the chopped and screwed beat rippled through the joyous crowd. Your smile widen now, showing of the golden grills that adorn your teeth, and your body relaxed into the rhythm and for a moment you almost forgot about Stack.

Almost.

Your eyes noticed the backdoor sliding open and there he was in all of his glory.

Stack.

He was wearing that same balled up red Nike shirt from earlier, shielding the white cotton tank, but you could see the soft fabric peaking through the collar and under the chains around his neck. He moved with purpose as he stepped down the concrete slab; making his way towards the party. That same easy going smile that you use to worship danced across his handsome face, gold teeth catching the light of the ember sunset. He dapped up Sammie, whispering something in the younger cousin's ear, which made him shake his head with a small laughter escaping his lips. And his focus was placed on the DJ board again.

Stack dapped up the people who were brave enough to say hello, he was like a magnet that pulled people's attention towards him without even trying. And even though the sun heat rays beat down on you - an oppressive chill ran cold through your body as he went deeper into the party - towards you.

The tequila and juice twisted within your stomach and your breathing became rapid - you weren't the type of get sick off of liquor - you can handle your drink. But seeing Stack, the heat, and the unfortunate decision of taking a few shots without eating first made you dizzy. Pearline noticed your once mellow mood turning sour and without a word she placed a calming touch on your thigh. Your eyes met with hers briefly and she whispered affirmations in your ear - telling you to take a deep breath and that you both could leave now.

You told her it was okay between long breathes, but your jaw was clenched tight and your hands gripped onto the plastic arm rest of the chair, your leg bouncing with rapid successions. Her hand didn't leave your skin as she handed you a cold bottle of water - and you chugged the bottle as if you've haven't drank anything in days.

Brown familiar irises flicked towards you and your eyes widen like saucers, as if you saw a ghost. Stack noticed you; of course he did. He could pick you out any crowd like it was nothing - like it was second nature to him. His smile curled up in a mischievous grin, but that smile wasn't full of an apology nor regret of hurting you so bad - but instead his golden grin was laced with nothing but cockiness that use to send butterflies to your core, making your heart race with desire and need.

It still did.

With a tilt of his head, Stack signaled you to come over to him, as if nothing problematic happened between the two of you - as if he never left you high and dry. You didn't move, you barely even flinched and you broke eye contact with him, your gaze lingering on the card game that was happening behind you. Slim was chattering away about how folks just don't know how to play the game. The biting warmth of the tequila was now replaced with a cold sting in your heart, you hope that Stack would cut his losses and leave you alone.

But that wasn't him, he never gave up.

Leaning off of the wooden fence he casual shuffled through the dancing crowd, people stepped out of his way without him even uttering a single word while his eyes were still trained on you. He reached you and Pearline within seconds.

She stood up from the chair, her hands resting on her hips as she spoke: "Uh, uh. Not tonight, boy."

But Stack was barely moved by her warning as his smirk only grew. Raising his hands up in a playful display of innocence his dark eyes flicked between you and Pearline who shielded you from his sultry gaze.

"Relax," Stack casually said as he placed his hands to sides, his head lulling back to see your expressions at hearing his voice. "I ain't here to start no drama. This a party, I just wanted to know if ya'll enjoyin' it, that's all."

But he was only met with silence from you and Pearline. You were still sitting in the plastic chair, your arms crossed over your chest as Stack's intense gaze never left your body. You wore a baby blue color tube top with dark acid washed shorts that stopped just above the curve of your ass, and your white Nike cortez with blue accents kicked at the small patch of dirt.

Your eyes refuse to even look at him.

"Damn, baby. You still mad at me?" Stack chuckled out with a knowing glint in his eyes - he was loving the tension between the two of you, even as toxic as it sounded - he liked when you were pissed off, it made him feel wanted and desired. It also didn't hurt that the make up sex would be more tender the angrier he made you.

You replied with a short irritated grunt and leered at him, giving off the vibe of 'don't test me', and your body stayed stock still in the chair. A small laugh escaped Stack's plump lips, he knew he was getting under your skin - and he soaked up each and every annoyed sigh you sent his way.

Stack's intense gaze pulled away from you and landed on Slim who slammed down a playing card on the plastic table. The older man was complaining about the new age music that was popular today.

"Slim, whatssup with you, unc?" Stack called out, which made Slim's face lit up. They both dapped each other up as the older man reclaimed his seat.

"Nothin' much, just tellin' these cats about some real music. None of that 'bitches and hoes' nonsense ya'll be listing to," Slim then took a sip from his flask, his face twisting at the bitter taste of liquor hitting his lips. "What happen to lovin' a woman, cherishin' her - takin' her out and bein' tender on her. Nowadays I wonder if ya'll actually love these queens."

"Look man; I ain't got love for these hoes, the only thing I love is pussy and money - ain't nobody tryna hear all that mushy shit tonight." Stack laughed, which earn a roar of chuckles from the men that were playing cards with Slim - some of them even dapped up Stack at his statement. Slim shook his head and waved his hand towards Stack, as if shooing him away.

But his harsh words stung at your heart and the burning sensations of tears nipped at your eyes, Pearline noticed this but before she could comfort you - you pushed yourself out of the chair, the legs of it scrapped against the concrete, silencing the laughter between the men. You raced towards the crowd as you made your way to Smoke's house. Multiple eyes followed you pushing through the dancefloor. Pearline glared at Stack and something within the man tinged with remorse.

He finally realized that you were hurt and that this wasn't a game anymore.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

The house was empty and the tequila in your veins burned with heartbreak and rage. Your legs rushed down the hallway and with hasty movements you flung open the bathroom door, slamming it loudly behind you. Cold tile met the burning skin of your back as your hands shielded your face, your breath hitching within your throat until it finally snapped like a rubber band.

Tears spilled freely from your eyes, slipping pass the cracks between your fingers as your body shook with each wail. With trembling lips your mind raced. You thought that you could handle it, that seeing him wouldn't wound you. But hearing Stack talk as if nothing mattered, as if he wasn't even affected by your presence made you feel hollow inside. He didn't just leave - he thrown you away. And that shit cuts deep, it felt like a knife hit your gut from his casual actions towards you.

A knock cut through your cries as your head throb with an ache, inhaling the sharp cold bathroom air your fingers wiped away the smeared makeup on your face due to the tears.

"Yea', you can come in." You whispered out, you assumed that Pearline was on the other side of the door - it made sense because only close friends of the twins were allowed to enter the vacant house. The sound of the door creaking open sent a wave of embarrassment through you.

But it wasn't Pearline your eyes were meet with.

It was Stack.

Stepping inside of the small bathroom he quietly closed the door behind him. His expression was different from the charming smile he wore prior to making you cry, all the jokes and cocky aura melted away like ice under the heat of the Mississippi sun. Guilt tugged Stack's face as he looked over your tear stained cheeks, your mascara running and your cherry red lipgloss slightly smeared from your hands pressing closely to your face.

"I-I didn't know you were cryin'." Stack muttered softly, his body leaning on the door and his brown eyes refusing to leave your shaking form. You didn't reply to him and you bit your lip, the gold teeth in your mouth slightly jabbing against the plump skin on your bottom lip. Glaring at Stack through glossy eyes you shook your head - you were growing tired of his antics.

"Hey, I didn't come in here to hurt you I just--"

"But you did hurt me, Stack! You did!" You shouted, cutting him off from his rambling. Your arms were crossed around yourself in an attempt to self soothe the anxiety that was threatening to spill over. Silence fell over the two of you and his eyes soften at your words.

"You left me like I wasn't shit. No goodbyes, not even a fuckin' breakup call! A-And then I find out you cheated on me with some bitch who lives in the suburbs," you shook your head as a pained smile danced across your lips, and with teary eyes you continued. "And now you show up and act like nothin' happened between us - you're such a joke, Stack."

Stack looked down as his hands rested in the pockets of his pants, guilt crashing into him like waves in a tsunami. He felt like shit hearing those words escape from your mouth - but those words were the truth - the bitter truth. He wasn't a good boyfriend to you; yes he took care of you, he praised you, and he adored you - but good to you? That wasn't the case. He treated you like a random fling even though the feelings he felt about you were so much more intense.

"I'm a coward," Stack mumbled. "I-I just didn't know how to be with you and still become the man I wanted to be."

"Oh, boo-hoo! You ain't even try!" You snapped as your voice cracked with each word you cried out, you hated how hurt you sounded and how raw you felt. Stack didn't flinch at your words and with a roll of his shoulders he spoke again, his southern accent curling around your ears like music.

"I was scared, I thought if I left without tellin', you'd realize that I'm no good - that you'll move on to someone better," he stepped closer towards you and the feeling of his shirt lightly grazing the exposed skin of your crossed arms. "But when I came back in town; I asked about you, and I was happy to know that you were still here - that maybe I could start over and fix this shit."

The air between you two were thicker now, more intense, and you couldn't take your eyes off of Stack.

You didn't want to.

"I never stopped thinkin' about you," he whispered low. "Even when I tried to, you were always on my mind when I left, I damn near felt lost without you."

"Then why you actin' like I never meant anything to you?"

Stack's lips twitched and his expression looked like he was scanning his scattered thoughts, as if trying to find the right words to say. His large and calloused hand reached out slowly, hovering over your arms, unsure if he could touch you without you swatting his hand away.

"Because if I admit to myself just how much you mean to me; then I woulda had to realize that I ruined the best thing that ever happened to me too..."

A tight lump formed in your throat at his words, you wanted to scream in his face, to push him out the bathroom and tell him to leave you alone - forever.

But you didn't.

You just stared at him as your chest heaved with shallow breaths. You hated him, you loved him, you missed him, and you never wanted to see him again. Your hands moved as if they had a mind of their own and you rested them on his broad shoulders, the feeling of the soft fabric under your fingers sent shockwaves and aching desire towards your core. Stack was the man that ruined you - but he was also the same one who built you up when no one would have.

Stack shuttered out a sigh of relief under your touch, as if feeling your hand press against his tense muscles was all he needed. His strong arms wrapped around your waist tightly, pulling your frame towards his, and his forehead rested on your bare shoulder. The party that was just outside of the door was muffled by the heavy breathing that escaped both of your lungs.

Leaving his head from the crook of your neck - both of your eyes clashed with each other - neither one of you breaking the intense gaze. And with a passing second your lips met his, the kiss was soft as if your bodies were trying to get reacquainted with each other, and his strong hands raced over your backside - clinging onto you as if you'd disappear from his touch.

The once soft kiss grew deeper - more hungry. And your fingers interlocked behind his head, the cold feeling of the multiple chains he wore grazed your knuckles. Tears still clung onto your long lashes as Stack cupped your face in his hand, both of your tongues fighting and dancing against each other. The taste of weed and alcohol filled your mouth as his bit your lip, begging you if he could go further pass just kissing.

You knew that you shouldn't do this; he hadn't earn to touch you like this again, he hadn't fix the broken heart that he shattered brutally, and he hadn't changed enough to re-enter your life as if he never left. But your heart, so tender and pure, still remembered those nights were he held you close. Making love to you and touching you places where only he knew that made you shiver in ecstasy.

"This doesn't mean I forgive you, Stack."

"I know, baby. But lemme show you how much I missed you."

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You and Stack slipped through the dark and quiet home like ghosts, his strong hands held your waist flush against his body as he guided you through the dark hallways of his older brother's house. The wooden floorboards creaked and groan beneath your feet with each step you both took. Stack's lips brushed the soft skin of your shoulder, placing tender kisses up your neck - just stopping below your ear.

You could feel his growing bulge pressing against your ass as his steady and firm hands grasp at your waist, a shiver of delight rushed through your body as memories of him fucking you made the ache between your thighs grow in anticipation. You grinded your self onto Stack which only made him quicken the pace through the house.

Your pulsed quicken under his open mouth and you could feel him smiling against your skin, cutting through the neat living room, you and Stack reached the guest bedroom. With careful hands he slowly turned the knob and his head lulling back to make sure no one saw the two of you sneaking inside of the bedroom. When the coast was clear - you both shuffled into the room. His arm still wrapped around your waist and quiet click was heard, he locked the door making sure no one would interrupt the two of you.

The once burnt orange of the evening sunset had faded away; now the blue shadows of nighttime crept into the dark room, the silver moonlight pooling across the empty bed and you turned on your heel, crashing your lips against his and his hands squeezing your ass. You gasp at the feeling of his ring slightly scraping against the skin of your ass, which made him deepen the kiss again. Your hands tightly gripped his shirt within your fist, pulling him closer until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

Stack adjusted his body weight as he hovered over you, making sure that he wouldn't crush you underneath him, and the sound of his jewelry clinking against each other made your head spin. You bit his lip as he pulled away from the kiss, which earned a low hiss from him. You smiled lazily as his knowing hands traced over the hem of your shorts, his fingers tracing small shapes over the denim pockets until they landed on the button.

You began to kick your shoes off as Stack unbutton your shorts, your lip tugged between your teeth as you watched his movements. The sound of the zipper becoming undone made a wave of arousal clung at your already soaking pussy and your hips slightly bucked forward as Stack slowly pulled your shorts off, leaning on your forearms you raised your hips - helping him slip off the denim on your body.

All you wore now was your tube top, cotton panties with a small bow at the waistband, and white cotton socks. He reached for your shirt but you swatted his hands away from the thin fabric.

"If I take a piece of clothing off it's only fair that you do too." You whispered, showing off the golden grills that Stack gifted you years ago. Seeing your already beautiful smile made his heart flutter - but the sight of you with golden capped teeth made his already stiffening member grow even harder - the man was straining against his pants.

With nimble fingers Stack pulled off his shirt along with the tight beater that clung onto his hard muscles, he was shirtless now and his multiple chains glistened under the moonlight - the diamonds danced against his brown skin and it looked as if he himself was glowing. Laying on his back you straddled him and your hands steered his towards your top, his chestnut colored irises lit up when he felt your breast through your shirt.

"When you get your titties pierced?" He asked as he pinched the sensitive buds on your chest, making you grind your soaking core against his jeans, you could feel his dick twitch within his pants as you continue to rock your hips.

"A couple of weeks after you left; I wanted somethin' different."

"Fuck, baby. Lemme see 'em." Stack requested as both of your hands slipped off the blue top over your head. A small giggle escaped your lips at the sight of his face; his mouth went slack and his eyes were glued to your half nude body. His calloused hands raced across your skin and the sound of him kicking off his sneakers made you look back and with strong arms he pulled himself towards the headboard of the bed with you still sitting on his lap.

Once situated his hands cupped your breast and his thumbs slowly rolled over the pierced buds, slightly pressing down on the silver jewelry that adorn your chest, a shiver ran up your spine as you moaned out his name. You nipples were already sensitive, but after getting them pierced that sensitivity doubled, and you were practically shaking within Stack's arms.

With one hand he pinched your nipple, the sharp yet pleasurable sensation zapped through your body and straight to your aching pussy, his free hand held onto your hip as he lowered his head and latched his mouth onto your breast. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked your nipple, his teeth slightly pulling at the jewelry. Your nails dug into his strong shoulders as you threw your head back, encouraging words fell from your lips as you begged him to keep going and how good you were already feeling.

Stack hummed against your chest and your hand lovely stroked his hair carefully as to not mess up his waves. His tongue swirled your nipple as he helped you grind yourself on his hard dick, he still had his pants on as his hips bucked into you. With a wet pop, he release your breast from his mouth, biting his lip when your eyes connected again.

"You're too damn sexy, baby. I need to taste her. It's been too long and I know she misses me..." Stack whispered against your chest. He would always refer to your pussy as 'she' or 'her' when he got in this mood.

And you loved it.

"Feel how much she missed you, baby." You said into his open mouth as your hand guided his towards your wet sex, you still wore your panties but that didn't stop Stack from rubbing small circles on your clothed clit while his ring finger pressed against your entrance through the thin fabric. You humped against his hand which made a chuckle fall from his hips, his eyes trained on the movements of your hips against hand.

"Take these off, they gettin' in the way." He stated, which you gladly did, listening to his demand without a second thought. Leaning on his back against the soft blanket of the bed your breast pressed firmly onto his hard and well trained muscles on his chest. Your hips rising off of his body as you slide your panties off, kicking the soaked fabric off of your legs.

With a quick peck on the lips, Stack guided you to climb higher, your exposed pussy now in view as your hands rested on the headboard. Stack rested his head on the many pillows within the bed and his warm breath against your thigh made you tremble in anticipation. Lowering your hips with his hands, you were now sitting on his face, and his tongue flatten against your clit. Rolling your hips you began to ride his face, his tongue lazily yet full of expertise swiped across your aching entrance.

The tip of his tongue circled your clit and the rough feeling of his grills rubbing against the sensitive bud as he raced his tongue across your sex made you shiver. Stack's strong hands held onto your hips as he guided them against the movements of his tongue, with a vice grip you held onto the wooden headboard, and your eyes gazed down at the man. His brown eyes looked up at you, soaking up all of the curves on your body and the sweet taste of your pussy that danced on his tongue made him roll his eyes back in pleasure.

"Ugh, fuck!" You groaned out as your hips bucked against his face. Stack's lips wrapped around your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud and the overbearing sensation made you lean forward; resting your cheek on the headboard. You chanted out Stack's name - his actual name - as if it was a holy hymn. Hearing his name roll sweetly off of your tongue made Stack's head spin, and with strong arms he held onto your waist, leaning himself over.

You let out a small yelp in surprise as your once steady grip on the headboard disappeared - now replaced with soft bedsheets. Your body weight rested on your shoulders and your legs were up in the air, Stack's arms were wrapped around your torso, pulling you close to his muscular chest. Working over your core Stack slowly slipped his middle finger inside you and the feeling of his rings grazing your clit earned a giggle of pleasure from you.

With precise movements Stack moved his hand, pressing his finger in and out of your pussy as his lips kissed your inner thigh, and the feeling of his mustache tickled at your skin. Your hands rested on the bedsheets, gripping the fabric within your fist. Stack added another finger in, the wet sounds of your pussy echoed through the room, and the slick sounds only made him speed up his movements.

Stack's fingers were now fully inside of you, his ring and middle finger filling you up as they skillfully worked over your core. High pitched moans fell from your lips as your feet fluttered from the pleasure, and the familiar intense feeling swarmed towards your core. Stack pulled his mouth away from your pussy as his fingers began fucking into you. He whispered promises to you that you know he'd never keep, but in this moment you believed every word he spoke - lapping up those lies as if they were dipped in honey.

Within an instant a wave of euphoria crashed into you and a loud cry of pleasure escaped your lungs. Your body trembled within his vice grip, trying it's best to regulate itself from experiencing coming so hard on his thick fingers.

"Mhm, just like that, baby." Stack praised with a cocky smile plastered on his handsome face, his fingers continued to thrust into your sensitive core, which earned a cry from overstimulation from you. Your hands clung onto his forearms in an attempt to slow the pace of his fingers, taking the hint he slowly pulled them out of you, and with a playful slap against your pussy - he released you from his tight grasp - your body laying limp on the bed as he stood up.

Catching your breath your eyes danced over Stack's toned body, his hands unbuckling his belt, slipping off his jeans and boxers in one swift movement freeing himself. Stack was big, and each time he would fuck you after a fight, you'd walk with a limp the next day. His thick and heavy member twitched with anticipation of fucking you again after all these years. Stack's mind would wonder towards your body when he would touch himself or decided to fuck some random woman he would entertain during those grueling years in Chicago.

But his hands weren't yours and those women weren't you.

Pumping himself with his hand Stack flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling you close to him so your lower half dangled off the edge of the bed. You looked over your shoulder as you watched Stack's face twist with pleasure as he slowly entered you.

"Fuck..." He groaned out as his hands held onto your hips. The feeling of your pussy squeezing around him almost made him come right then and there, he was convinced that you both were made for each other - you were the only woman who could have that kind of effect on his body by just entering. Pushing himself all the way in, he paused his hips, savoring the feeling of you, and also helping you adjust yourself to him. You were so tight and so wet, he could stay in your pussy for hours if you let him.

"C'mon, Elias..." You begged as you began rocking your hips, urging the man to fuck you, which he gladly did. High pitched grunts fell from your lips with each thrust he made and the arch in your back became to much to support by yourself, his strong arms pushed you flush against the bed while holding your waist to keep your back arched against his powerful thrust of his hips. Your legs turned into jelly as they shook underneath you and your feet barely touched the ground - you were practically standing on the tips of your toes.

"Keep fucking me, keep fucking me!" You begged out between moans, Stack was rendered to only grunts and groans, but that didn't stop him from replying to you - in his own way of course. With a swift smack he landed a sharp slap against the plush skin of your ass, making you hiss out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. He continued fucking into you, smacking your ass, and holding your waist in a vice grip.

You sure you'll have bruises later.

Leaning upwards you turned your head with your mouth open, signaling to him that you wanted a kiss. Stack's needy lips crashed into yours as your tongue danced across his, you could taste how sweet you truly were on his lips and mustache. Your golden grills bumped into his in the passionate make-out session and his heavy body was leaning flush against your sweaty back. His chest heaved shallow breaths as his hips sporadically bucked into you - feeling his hard cock inside of you twitch you knew he was close.

And so you were.

Pulling away from the sloppy kiss, the string of saliva that connected between both of your bottom lips snapped, and Stack rested his head onto your shoulder. The same familiar feeling of overbearing pleasure that needed to be alleviated came back within your abdomen, and with a loud cry you came on Stack's dick. Your eyes rolled back as your fist gripped the bedsheets below you.

"Damn, baby. W-Where you want it?"

"Inside me, baby."

And without missing a beat Stack came too, a guttural groan reverberated through his body and crashed into you. The feeling of his hard jewelry pressing into your back grounded you as you catch your breathe, and the warm feeling of his come filling you up made you smile in relief. You both paused your movements and Stack was still inside of you, rolling his shoulders he slowly pulled out of you - which made you groan from the sensation. You rested your sore body onto the bed and your cheek rested on a soft pillow. Stack smiled as he playfully patted your ass.

"Good shit, baby." He smiled which made you roll your eyes, turning your head to look away from him, trying your best to kind the lopsided smile that clung onto your lips.

"You're so annoy--" but before you could finish your statement a sharp knock was heard on the door, the handle violently jiggling between each knock.

"Stack? I know ya'll ain't in there doin' what I think ya'll doin'!" The voice of Smoke shouted behind the lock door. Stack spat out a 'shit' and quickly sat up from the bed, putting on his boxers as he wiped his face with the back of his hand that was covered in your juices. You sat up and your eyes widen in alarm as you reached for your clothes, but Stacked waved at you to stop your movements.

Unlocking the door Stack's body stood in front of the small crack, hiding your naked form. Hushed whispers were shared between the twins and you assumed that Stack was getting cursed out by his older brother and with a sharp: "Clean that fuckin' room before ya'll leave." Smoke slipped away from the door, which made Stack shout back in his usual playful tone.

"I was already gon' do that!" And he closed the door behind him, sucking his teeth as he threw himself onto the bed next to you, making you bounce a bit from his added weight on the mattress. Brown eyes stared into each other as silence now fell over the two of you. Leaning in to close the space between each other Stack ran his fingers through your hair, tucking the braid behind your ear, and the sound of his chains clinking against each other made you ease under his touch.

"I'm so tender on you, girl...I promise I'll do right by you; just give me another chance." Stack whispered, his eyes training on your features as you bit your lip. You were terrified of being hurt by him again, but you were also scared living the rest of your days without feeling his touch too. Reaching for his shoulder you pulled him closer towards you - your lips ghosting over his and you finally gave him your answer.

"Okay, but don't mess this up..."

[heavensoutofsight]

voice memos | b.e.

SYNOPSIS: billie loves to record voice memos... for everything.

WORD COUNT: 783

TAGS/WARNINGS: fluff & smut (mention of oral and strap-on sex)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: just a short little blurb that i found in my drafts and completely forgot about. i'm sorry this account has been so dead recently, here's something to hopefully hold y'all over 😔 hope you guys enjoy as alwayssss

[ taglist: @hannahluvsbillie, @bilssturns , @bla1rxoxo, @billiesrighthand, @weluvwbb, @belleishot, @natbelovasblog, @wilfdflwr8, @likefirenrain, @amara-eilish, @sevikasleftbicep ]

(forgot to add the taglist again y'all i'm stoopid)

the thing about billie, is that she loves to record things.

given her career as a singer, her ears were especially adept at picking up new sounds everywhere she went. anything from a dentist drill to the sound of a crosswalk was fair game to use in a song—if it sounded cool, she was recording it, and her little habit of being fascinated by the randomest sounds completely endeared you.

but, she didn't always record things for the sake of putting them in songs. she often recorded moments in her life that she just wanted to keep as a memory. sometimes it was the cute sound of shark snoring, the sound of her fans screaming for her from backstage, or even a recording of thunder and rain, just because the sound of the droplets hitting the window sounded calming to her. most often, though, her voice memos involved you.

they were often recordings of simple moments. one recording was of the two of you having a laughing fit over some random internet meme—it was exactly 30 seconds long, and all that could be heard was the sound of the both of you gasping for air. another recording consisted of the sound of food sizzling in a pan, with The Office playing in the background mixed with the soft sound of billie's humming and shark's whines as he begged for food. there was even a recording of you and billie having a late night conversation, one in which billie was venting to you about the stress her celebrity life gave you, and you comforting her with words laced in love and sincerity; private words, that no one else would hear except billie on the random nights she decided to replay the audio for herself.

but there was something else billie loved recording as well. something that absolutely no one was allowed to hear. sometimes, she'd share snippets of audio recordings for her curious fans on instagram—but these recordings were so private that she had them all on a sacred flash drive that she protected like it was gold.

it started one night when the both of you were in her home studio. she was feeling frustrated—she couldn't get a specific melody right for a song she was working on. she was tense and clearly deep in her thoughts. you, being the caring girlfriend you are, hated seeing billie so upset with herself; so you offered to take her mind off of the music for a bit, getting her to look away from the production software open on her laptop and at your face instead. you kissed her gently, whispering to her that the song would still be there tomorrow and you could return to it then. one kiss turned into two, which quickly turned into three, and then four, and eventually, the two of you were passionately devouring each other's lips right in the middle of the studio.

soon enough, you found yourself leaning over the desk, bending over slightly as billie was on her knees, eating you out like a woman starved from behind. every flick of her tongue was so precise, so skilled, and in only a few minutes she already had your knees buckling. your moans were so loud, filling the room and reverberating off the walls. billie loved the sound of your moans of pleasure so much—she couldn't help but pause for a moment to grab her phone and open up her voice memos app.

"billie—?" you had whined, confused and disappointed at her stopping.

"just wanna save this for later, mama." she replied, pressing record, and diving back in, picking up exactly where she left off.

you quickly realized what she meant when she mentioned "saving this for later" and all you could was let out a breathy chuckle.

"you are so fucking dirty, billie—" you said through high-pitched gasps as you felt billie's fingers rub your folds.

"you love it." she replied—and it was true. you did, because from then on, billie recording the sound your lovemaking became somewhat of a tradition.

she loved recording you when she fucked you with her strap, the sound of your pussy squelching with each thrust so deliciously filthy to billie's ears. she was addicted to the sound of her skin meeting yours, addicted to the sound of your whines and your deep groans of her name. the mattress squeaking under the weight of the both of you was the cherry on top.

nobody knew that when she was all alone in her hotel room, in need of stress relief, she'd come back to those very voice memos, the ones she recorded for her ears only.

[everlastingauthor]

࣪ ִֶָ☾. When You Wear Their Clothes

๋ ࣭ ⭑ Author's Note: Please do not re-upload my work or feed it to ai, if you wish to translate my work and upload please get my permission first and credit me that's all I ask for, please remember to stay hydrated, take your vitamins and medicine, and remember you are loved.

๋ ࣭ ⭑ Tags: Romance, Fluff, Gender Neutral Reader, & One Piece

๋ ࣭ ⭑ Characters: Mihawk, Crocodile, Shanks, Smoker, Buggy, & Robin

๋ ࣭ ⭑ Request Open: ☑ Yes | No

๋ ࣭ ⭑ Want More One Piece Fics: Click Here

⤷ Dracule Mihawk

He thinks that you look adorable in his hat and coat, especially when the coat is open and you aren't wearing anything underneath. He chuckled upon finding you in his coat and hat. " What are you doing my dear? " He asked while leaning against the doorway. " I'm trying to be the greatest swordsman. How do you fight in this coat? It's heavy. " You said while turning around in it. Mihawk chuckled pushing off the doorway and stalked towards you. He used one hand to cup your face and made you look at him, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your cheek. " It's quite easy, especially since the coat isn't heavy to me. " Mihawk said, leaning down as he placed a sweet kiss on your lips. " At least it's not as bad as Sir Crocodile's coat, right my love? " His amber eyes pour into your (e/c) as you chuckled softly, nodding your head and agreeing with him that Crocodile's coat seems a lot worse than Mihawk's coat. But the two of you would never say to his face since you two didn't want Crocodile berating you both for his fashion choice.

⤷ Sir Crocodile

He couldn't blame you for wearing his coat, you weren't used to cold places. But with Crocodile having to relocate, he has to give you his coat once in a while. He won't admit it, but he likes how you wear his coat. " Tch, you look like a fur ball... " He told you while he smoked his cigar and had his coffee. You were curled up on the couch balled up a bit in his coat while reading. " Would you still love me if I was a fur ball? " You asked him without looking up from your book. Crocodile rolled his eyes at your idiotic silly question, but he was used to it. " I would, but I prefer you not to be a fur ball. " He rolled his eyes and took a couple of sips of his coffee. Crocodile would rather see you warm than a cold, shivering mess; he was actually glad that you asked for his coat. You could always reach for a blanket or grab your own coat or a sweatshirt, but no, you would always come to him, and secretly, that made him smile whenever you bounced away with his coat, and whenever he got it back, it smelled like you so bouns.

⤷ Shanks

This man goes wild seeing you in his shirt whenever you walk around your guy's shared cabin. He sits there with a goofy grin plastered on his face. " What? " You looked at him as you were trying to crochet another blanket for you and Shanks's bed. " What? Can't I admire my beautiful partner? Even when they look quite sexy in my shirt. " Shanks leaned up, kissing your neck, which sent a shiver down your spine. " Shanks, I'm trying to crochet here. " You told him. Your cheeks were warm as you tried not to giggle and give into the sexual tension that Shanks was trying to build up. He loved how his shirt made you look fetching and that it was his own personal bedroom attire on you. Forgot lingerie, if you wore one of his shirts in the bedroom, he would whistle and ravish you. Shanks continued to kiss your neck and shoulder while caressing your inner thighs; you couldn't ignore it, especially since you wanted him to kiss other places. " Alright, ravish me, redhead. " You looked at him and smirked.

⤷ Smoker

He saw you wearing his coat when he came home, he stepped into the kitchen as you were cooking dinner. " Why are you wearing my coat (y/n)? " He asked while opening the fridge to grab him something to eat. " I missed you and wanted a hug, but you weren't here so this was the next best option. " You replied while frying the meat in the pan. This response made Smoker's face heat up as he sipped on his drink. " Go wash up for dinner, I'm making chicken katsu and rice balls with cabbage. " You turned around and smiled at him. That damn smile always melted his heart; it's the reason whenever he was faced with a battle he would try his hardest to beat his opponent so that he could come home to you. " And dessert? " He asked; he wanted to stay in the kitchen a bit longer watching you cook and wear his coat. " Blueberry pie. " You told. Smoker noticed the coat was buttoned all the way up. " (Y/N) You got clothes underneath my uh coat,, right? " He asked. You turned around and smirked. " Go wash up, and after dinner, I'll give you a welcome home gift. " You chuckled, hearing Smoker leave the kitchen quickly.

⤷ Buggy

“ I'm sorry (Y/N)! " Buggy apologized over and over again while you were in the bathroom. Buggy planned on throwing cream pies at Mihawk and Crocodile to teach them a lesson for beating on him. But you were accidentally nailed in the face and chest with the cream pies when bringing your bombastic boyfriend lunch. " It's okay Buggy. " You said stepping out of the bathroom as you were drying your face. Buggy's jaw hung down as he saw you in his shirt. " Wow, I should throw cream pies at you more often to get you in my clothes. You look like an absolute super model! " Buggy giggled with delight as he hugged you. " And you used my blue cotton candy body wash. " Buggy said, burying his face into the crook of your neck. " I did it smells nice. " You ran your fingers through Buggy's hair. " And my shirt looks better on you then me. " Buggy said, bold of him to say since Buggy believed he always looked better than anyone else. " Thank you Buggy. " You kissed him on the nose, as Buggy was giddy with joy.

⤷ Robin

You told your girlfriend Robin that you wanted to look cool today, a total badass since you two would be going into town to do some shopping with Sanji and Chopper. She chuckled softly and let you wear her black leather jacket, which was amazing since it would match the black leather pants you bought last week; Robin held your hands when you two walked through the town. She thought you looked adorable in her jacket. " My my (Y/N), don't you look adorable in my jacket? " She chuckled softly and kissed your hand. You pouted and blushed. " No, I'm supposed to look badass. I should probably get some sunglasses like black shades. " You sighed. " You can still be adorable and look badass. " Robin chuckled as she walked with you. You smiled because she was right, I mean Chopper was adorable but also a badass whenever he was angry or in battle. " You are right Robin. " You kissed her hand and continued to walk as Robin smiled.

࣪ ִֶָ☾. One Piece Taglist: [Comment To Be Added]

[boop-le-snoot]

kinktober #2

Strange Candy

kinktober day two | aphrodisiac | 18+, cw: intoxicated sex (all consensual), female reader. both of them hella sassy, book-ish!thran because no angst in my house. this is very silly, just like the author. don't eat funny mushrooms you find in the forest! | wc 3,7k | want more kinktober? click here |

“Strange indeed.” Said the King thoughtfully. The group of hunters who'd led him to the newfound development traded a long look. Crouching down, the King's majesty eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead as he studied the newfound addition to his great Elven forest. “And the beasts have returned seemingly unharmed, you say?”

“Yes, my Lord. The bears had retreated into a den and so did the foxes, emerging approximately three days afterwards. All seemed in good health and very hungry.” The Silvan hunter replied.

“Then these must be harmless.” Deduced the King, taking out a thin blade to poke at a dense cluster of brightly coloured fungus.

At least, he guessed it was a fungus. Upending one cluster, he found no roots. The flesh of the mushroom was white and fragrant, pleasantly earthy and rich, with subtle floral undertones that made his mouth water slightly. The smell intensified tenfold upon cutting the mushroom down the middle. The King brought it closer to his nose, carefully scenting for any bitterness or rot.

“My Lord...” A concerned Feren piped up from his spot behind the King.

You offered the Captain a glance full of genuine compassion, without a doubt considering his job to be the most complicated and tedious in the whole of Thranduil's kingdom. Minding Greenwood's fiery monarch was not for the faint-hearted.

“Surely you are not thinking of putting it in your mouth?” You added a dash of sarcasm into your question, equally concerned.

You were sassed right back, eyeroll audible. “It is a mushroom, where else would I put it?” Thranduil straightened up, holding the newfound addition to the flora of the forest impaled on his knife. As soon as his eyes zeroed on you, you gulped. Thranduil gave you a nasty little grin. “What is the worst that could happen? I have the best healers of my realm at my disposal.”

Feren's fingers twitched, a tell-tale sign of his withering self-restraint. You sighed and contemplated the best time to begin backing away.

Thranduil simply raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge. “Worry not, the Kingdom has forgotten of your and Feren's...” Elegant pause, Feren's sigh. “Accident.”

“'twas no accident,” you said defensively. “You gave us your Ada's moonshine to see if it was still good. On purpose.”

Thranduil shrugged as the mushroom was evenly divided into two parts with the help of his knife. A perfect picture of innocence, he held up the treat in his palm, grey eyes sparkling.

“I am NOT doing it, my Lord!” Exploded Feren, and gave into his urge to take a step back. He, more than anyone, knew how insistent Thranduil could get. A seven-thousand year old elf giving huge puppy eyes! And it worked! The Captain shielded his own face with his palm. “Throw me in the dungeons for a fortnight, I care not!”

Contrary to your expectations, Thranduil simply rolled his eyes, and swiftly stuck one part of the colourful fungus in his mouth. Everyone gasped, including you, but the old Elvenking remained completely unbothered.

“Hm,” he blinked after a second. “That is not bad.”

Waves of impending doom washed over you with each contemplative movement of Thranduil's jaws. Looking first to the left, and then to the right, you found no immediate means exit of the situation. It was you, the resident human, and the tree behind you, which your King had no problem with crowding you against. Not that he moved or anything. He was just... Large. And very handsome. And spectacular at rounding his shiny, bottomless eyes with great purpose.

“We must know if this fungus is harmful to Edain,” he said, honey-sweet. You hated that he was right. “According to hunters, there is an abundance of it, and, knowing how curious you Edain are...”

“Ugh!” You shook your head. “Just give me the mushroom. If I die, I will haunt your halls for all eternity.” Obediently and with no small worry, you snatched the piece and stuck it in your mouth, chewing quickly, not even taking note of the taste.

Thranduil's last experiment that involved you and Feren still fresh on your mind, you turned back towards the Halls before you'd even finished chewing. You'd rather be in the privacy of your rooms least intoxication has you do something embarrassing... Again. Thankfully, the King conceded, and after giving the hunters a command to gather more of this mystery fungus, the party set out back home.

It was Feren's turn to offer you fleeting looks of compassion. You quietly smiled back, not feeling anything out of sorts. The ride back was pleasantly uneventful. Not a creature was stirring: even the ever-present spiders were absent in their bothersome scuttling.

Too smug for his own good, Thranduil entered his halls with a spring in his step. “The haunting of halls of Greenwood has been postponed indefinitely, I see,” he said in passing as he shrugged off his outer travel robes. A maid immediately offered him a silver robe of heavy satin which he politely declined. “Nay. The discovery has warmed me plenty.”

You noticed that yes, the weather has turned rather warm indeed and bowed before departing back to your daily business. Mid-way through your chores, a thin, translucent sheen of sweat glistened on your brow as you silently cursed the Vala responsible for such unusually pleasant weather. The Halls had already began to prepare for a long winter with covering unnecessary exits and patching up drafty areas.

What wouldn't you give for a gulp of fresh, cold air! Chores forgotten, you hurried to the nearest balcony. There was one not frequently visited by Elves as it was hidden behind a clever alcove; stepping aside and squeezing through the narrow opening, you sighed happily and deeply as your clammy skin finally felt crisp late night air.

Your shoulders dropped as you exhaled, finally shaking off some of that uncomfortable heat. A tranquil scene of swaying treetops and budding stars over a darkening sky emphasized the calamity of your solitude.

“Hm.”

“My Lord,” you greeted without turning, familiar with the timbre of voice and soft swishing of expensive fabric coming from behind you.

Thranduil's profile appeared within your field of view as he posted up next to you and demurely placed a hand over the stone railing of the balcony. “I was unaware someone had found the secret entrance to my private balcony.”

“Oh,” you froze. “I apologize... I was simply...”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “I take no offense. Indeed, it was quite clever. Even keen Elven eyes miss the opening behind the alcove.” Sans outer robe and clad in a simple but rich ensemble of sateen shirt and velvet breeches, it became evident you'd caught the King in a private moment of relaxation. His brow, usually tinted with concern with kingdom, was pleasantly warm.

You swallowed, looking away. He was a beauty even among his own kin, and like this - relaxed and comfortable - bordered on irresistible. A flash of heat spread through your body at the realisation. It took no small effort to squash these thoughts and steer them towards some semblance of propriety.

“The Valar have blessed us with good weather this autumn, my Lord. I was doing my chores and nearly felt faint from the heat.” You said, noticing Thranduil's eyebrows rise. “And the construction of your halls is incredible! Not a single drafty corner.”

“Heated, you say?” He interrupted suddenly, turning to face you fully. Etiquette (whenever you remembered it) dictated you should, too, and you two faced each other. Thranduil radiated curiosity, eyes lingering on your flushed cheeks and the warmth crawling down the neckline of your clothes. “Strange.”

“What is, my Lord?”

“I have said the same thing to Galion but he gave me a very pointed look and gestured towards Lady Anariel, who had been complaining to her maid about not lighting a fire in a timely manner.”

You frowned, too. The Lady Anariel was as Northern as Elves come and was fairly tolerant of wintery weather. When others wore furs, she got by with an outer dress of wool and, perhaps, a pair of gloves.

“Do you feel... Strange, my Lord?” You had a slight suspicion. Just a teeny-tiny one, that boiled down to those Eru-forsaken mushrooms.

In response you received an impish sort of shrug. “Not necessarily so. Do you?”

Your face blanched. Aside from suddenly finding him irresistible and feeling a little hot under the collar, nothing was amiss. But the longer you lingered on those two thoughts, the stronger they became. It was as if you were an adolescent again: barely any impulse control and all feeling.

‘twas a delicate situation. You could speak to a healer, of course, or let the strange circumstance run it's course. If it even could do that. Thoughts growing jumbled by the second, you said the only clear thing on your mind.

“Those cursed mushrooms.”

Thranduil was unperturbed. “I do not believe they are cursed. Potent, yes, but not cursed.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “... You too?”

He sighed. “I came out here in hopes of clearing my head from this fog of lust.” As you prepared to mutter- what, exactly? Apologies? - Thranduil's finger reached out for tour face to trace the curve of your jaw. “And in the process I found something much more exciting.”

Your bottom lip trembled. Such a simple gesture felt heavenly. Wherever his skin came in contact with yours, the heaviness receded briefly. Your breath caught in your chest as your heart picked up a hare's pace.

“Am I being propositioned?” You wished to say to yourself but in the fog, managed to sputter out loud.

“We could help each other out...” The King, unfurled to his full height and radiating heat equal to that you felt on the inside, grinned a crooked grin. It sat youthfully on his timeless features, just the right amount of flirtatious and reassuring.

You pretended to think about it. No, you really did, out of concern for your dignity. Throwing yourself onto the King was simply uncouth. Such was your next course of action, but the necessary amount of time had passed and the need, having been brought to the forefront or your mind, took hold of your sense. Slowly, you leaned into the touch and brought your hands to Thranduil's forearm, tilting his fingers to your mouth. Hot breath caused them to twitch.

“Does this answer your question?” You tilted your head, lips brushing against the multitude of rings he wore on his persona. It was most exhilarating to see his pupils widen and his mouth tremble.

Adam's apple bobbing, Thranduil swallowed. “No.” And smirked, the stunning bastard. “I need a clear, straightforward statement.”

You sighed, feigning annoyance. “I enthusiastically consent to having uncouth, untoward and potentially nasty things being done to my body by my Lord and King...”

You did not even get to finish. In a flash, Thranduil's hands had encircled your face and he bent himself over you, pushing your body into the balcony as he devoured your mouth with his. There was no grace and no finesse; something heavy and hard poking your stomach showed you just how much self-control your King had.

Seconds ago, you'd been having a perfectly normal conversation and now you found yourself airborne, having been unceremoniously picked up by the tall Elf and carried towards his chambers like the most coveted spoil of war while he devoured your mouth. You hummed into the kiss and responded with a groan, tearing the back lacing of your clothes clean off.

Your back connected with the mattress of his bed. Blinking at the rapid change of pace and scenery, you moaned out in frustration regarding your ruined clothes.

“I will commission more for you,” he said carelessly, throwing his own shirt Mordor knows where. His bare chest, chiseled with lithe muscle and pale as fresh milk, captivated your attention.

Previously having contended yourself with the occasional glance at the tiny window of bare skin where the sides of his robes met, you used your newfound opportunity to drink yourself full of Thranduil's fair skin. It felt as soft as it looked when he laid upon you, the weight of his body offering a delicious momentary reprieve from the tension building up in your muscles. Gossamer hair shielded you from the outside world as he leaned in towards your mouth again, this time capturing yours in a sensual dance of tongue and teeth.

A nimble hand took care of your bottoms, sliding inside your underwear as slick and cunning as a snake, to cup your mound. Thranduil groaned into the kiss, finding you soaked and willing, fingering the cleft of your lower lips with practiced gentle moves. The tenderness of it drove you crazy. Your need flared as a wall of standstill fire and you were surprised you did hadn't noticed it earlier. If the pulse in your cunt was anything to go by, you would come undone the very moment your King would finally allow you to feel full.

He was fairly content with sucking your soul out through your mouth and mapping the fat outer lips of your cunt. Never quite breaching and wholly avoiding your throbbing pearl, Thranduil simply basked in the amount of sticky juice your cunt was capable of producing.

The first loud moan of the night broke free if your lips and it was one of frustration.

Thranduil smiled into the kiss, your teeth clashing together. “What is it, mm?” He queried in-between wet pecks.

“I want to come.” You whined.

He chuckled. “And what's in it for me?”

Thankfully, your eyes were closed and he did not see your eyeroll. “You'll get to come, too?” Cringing at how lame it sounded, you were nonetheless powerless beneath him and overwhelmed from your desire.

“I prefer to play with my food.” He grinned a predator's smile, all shiny teeth and lidded eyes, but tugged down on your bottoms nonetheless. “Try harder.”

That became difficult as you were now bare; shivering in your King's arms, you cracked open a hazy eye to see him settle himself closer to your dripping center. It captivated him. Sliding two fingers along your lips, your eyes closed and head fell back as every nerve in your body came alight. Rewarded by a long moan, Thranduil gathered ample amount of moisture on his fingers and brushed over your quivering entrance.

Your back arched as he plunged them deeply within your aching cunt. The sticky noise it made was positively scandalous.

“I will-ah! forgive you for gathering the entire -ahh! King's guard to look at Feren and I!” You managed to form a quasi-coherent sentence through the moans and gasps spilling from your lips and were rather proud of yourself for it.

Thranduil's laugh echoed in the room as it did in his chest, a pleasant rumble vibrating through your core. “Whether Galion forgives you two for barking at him remains to be seen.”

Genuine amusement briefly overshadowed your shame at the situation of the past and at your own current neediness. The combination of emotion startled a laugh out of you, causing your core to clench around Thranduil's fingers and coat them in your wetness. He groaned low in his throat and rubbed your inner walls, reveling in the resulting moan. It did nothing to bring you closer to the peak.

“Sadist!” You accused and attempted to grind down on his hand, fisting the crumpled sheets.

“Slander!” He punctuated the rebuttal with an expert curl of his fingers. You arched. He smirked. “You should learn patience.”

There was no strength in your mind to formulate another witty comeback. Sensation, low and insistent, built up in the pit of your belly, an ache so sweet and tender you were sure it would be any second that you'd burst with it. Every pore on your skin open and receptive to touch, even the slide of silk sheets as your body bent with pleasure was overwhelming. You panted wetly through parted lips as a third finger joined in, the stretch of it making your eyes roll back into your head.

Thranduil would kill you. You were sure of it now. He would end you with a blinding smile and clever fingers never ceasing to move within you, the movement just shy of where you needed him most.

“Mercy!” You moaned. “Mercy, my King!”

You should have known his idea of it would be no less torturous than the ‘kindness’ that led you to your current place writhing atop his bed. Slowly, his tongue traced a path around your outer lips before dipping inside; it was hot and wet, like a summer storm, when it connected with your engorged clit and flicked it from root to tip. Electric feel of sensation pierced your body in a lightning bolt as your leg muscles seized. The King gave a pleased rumble and went for seconds and thirds, effortlessly holding your thighs open with one strong, long arm, palm digging into the soft meat.

Even the pain of it echoed with pleasure.

While the need within your loins kept steadily climbing with no end in sight, your King treated himself to a leisurely late night snack. His tongue delved in and out of your cunt, lapping up the waterfall of arousal. You would have been mortified, really, for the mess had you glued stuck to his face, your hips attempting to follow his mouth in circles.

Coupled with the digits slowly but surely stretching the entrance to your channel, brushing over the sensitive fornix, you knew the night would be long. Dark, but not cold. Hazy.

“Ngh!” You articulated through gritted teeth, feeling him pull away from a particularly sensitive spot in favour of sucking a bruise onto your inner thigh. Thranduil followed a path only he himself knew, marking your flesh with pulling, precise bites that left discoloured spot damp with spit. They pleasantly ached.

Over your stomach and at the underside of your bottom rib. The sides and bottoms of your breasts, all the way up at the root of your nipples. He took each one in into his mouth, suckling on it like a hungry babe, before releasing them with a wet pop just blow a gentle breath onto the pebbled nubs. Through parted lashes, you watched him, aptly fascinated by the lack of colour in his eyes, pupils blown wide and deep with lust.

You tasted your cunt on his tongue as he made way back up. Risking a glance downward, you saw Thranduil's cock hard, flushed and heavy, hanging out of his breeches. He hadn't bothered with removing them and that single detail had you nearly undone. How the King himself could not wait to he inside of you!

An understanding of his previous games had come too, for he was rather proportional everywhere. Just the slide of his weeping tip against your bruised thigh invoked a shudder in you, back arching. You presented yourself to your best ability, eyes shining with pleading as he rested his forehead against yours.

Thranduil held himself above you, weight on his elbows, as his cock nosed at your sopping entrance. Immediately, it tried to suck him in, coaxing his lips to bend into a smirk. Such proximity was putting your sensibility directly into negatives. With a wild look mirrored in his own darkened pupils, you petulantly stuck out your bottom lip and panted with all the sarcasm that you could muster:

“we'll get to the good part... About tomorrow?” You wished to add more, something about him being old, but that remark and many more drowned in the absolute extasy flooding your body as he slid into your cunt in one single smooth stroke. “Aah...” Left your lips instead, and with it, any remaining oxygen departed from your lungs as well.

“Mouthy,” Thranduil remarked, sounding unfairly put together for someone who's mouth was as slippery as wet stone and cheeks brighter than a ripe beetroot.

You forgave him then and there. In awe, you watched him give you another one of his impish grins and nudge at that spot deeply within you. And he did it all over again, plush mouth releasing the sweetest, quietest of moans as he did so. Time got lost in the tug of war tour cunt played with his cock; like this, your release was imminent and fast approaching.

You grabbed Thranduil's arms, rubbed his shoulders as your legs wound up around his narrow waist while he contentedly and systematically unraveled you apart with rapid, smooth snaps of his hips. For a while, there was nothing in the room but the two of you and the lewd noises of damp skin slapping against skin. Clutching harder, you felt yourself tighten around his girth. Each measured stroke abused your engorged clit, heavy sac adding extra sensation on your perineum.

A low, feral groan joined the thrilling cacophony of sex. Thranduil fucked you through your first orgasm with gritted teeth, barely slowing with the new resistance of your cunt attempting to milk him for his worth. Hair hanging over your faces like a curtain, he claimed your lips in a searing kiss as you whimpered with overstimulation. Evenly, his thrusts became shallow, grinding.

Having become a acquainted with your bearings somewhat, you made a confused noise. The King just grinned. His palm connected firmly with the side of your hip as you squealed. He withdrew.

“Present yourself to your King.” He ordered, both smug and slightly breathless, helping you along onto all fours.

You chuffed into the damp bedding and obeyed, arching your back at a sinful curve. Within seconds, you were once again blissfully full.

a/n: I am way too horny of a person to write anything LACE compliant. Or is that my commitment issues talking? Anyway, ELVES FUCK SEVERELY! At least this October. mwah 💋

I once ate like 12 grams of cubensis and was a cat for 3 hours, so Feren barking at Galion with the help of some 3k+ year old mushroom infused moonshine isn't that far-fetched.