#I try to be nice about it but it does really get on my nerves.

[bat-connoisseur]

Something that irrationally (and sometimes not irrationally) really annoys me are people who are like 'I can't draw [thing], I've never drawn [thing] before, I only draw [other thing]!' because... I get a bit of hesitation to try new things and I get that it might be kind of difficult but the way to change that is to do it, you know? Grab a bunch of references and give it a shot. You might do a bad job, but a bad attempt at drawing something new is better than not drawing it at all.

And sometimes its mostly harmless like... Some kid who refuses to draw humans because they only draw cats. Like sure, whatever, you're not harming anyone and the refusal to try and grow is just kind of annoying, but then you'll have adults who refuse to draw poc because they've never done it and don't know how. Well, the first step to figuring it out is doing it so write that down. Also, it's often not as deep as people convince themselves or let other people convince them that it is. Trust me. It's better to make an earnest attempt at something and fail than refuse to do it at all because you're scared of failing.

Gather some references, and give the thing you've never drawn a shot. Do studies if you want, try stylizing it, and have a bit of fun with it. If it turns out bad, you don't even need to show anyone, but I guarantee the experience will be beneficial, and next time it'll turn out better. I couldn't draw bats but then i kept trying over and over until I found a way to draw them that i liked and that made sense to me. The early ones looked shitty, but I learnt and it's better than never drawing one at all.

[awearywritersworld]

megumi's teacher — gojo satoru x reader

tags/warnings: fluff. fem!reader. gojo beefing with an eight year old. 700 words.

ever since megumi started the second grade, it's been (l/n)-sensei this. (l/n)-sensei that.

gojo picks up megumi's favorite ice cream, only to be scolded by the young boy. "(l/n)-sensei's favorite flavor is strawberry, so that's my favorite now!"

gojo tries to help him with his math homework, and it's "(l/n)-sensei did it this way. that means you should too!"

gojo reaches down to tie megumi's shoes for him, before his hand is promptly smacked away. "(l/n)-sensei said big boys tie their own shoes!"

honestly, gojo is starting to feel a little jealous. megumi's known you for what? two months?

he's been raising megumi for the past few years, but does that earn him an ounce of the adoration the young boy seems to have for you?

apparently not, though he perseveres nonetheless.

he and megumi are spending the afternoon out in the city and they stop at a small bakery for lunch.

while megumi is distracted looking at all the sweets behind the glass counter, the bell on the door draws gojo's attention.

his eyes fall upon a pretty young woman. actually, you might just be the prettiest woman he's ever seen.

and of course, a smirk forms on his lips when he catches you looking his way. he's puffing out his chest, running a hand through his hair.

he's always had a certain effect on the ladies, and he's never been more happy about that until this very moment—

"megumi?" you call from a few feet away. the wide smile adorning your face makes you look even more radiant.

while gojo visibly deflates, megumi's head whips around at the speed of light. "(l/n)-sensei!"

oh.

gojo very quickly comes to understand why the boy is so enamored by you.

megumi launches himself at you, while you crouch to meet him with open arms.

"i'm so happy to see you!" he practically sings, clinging to your neck.

you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "i'm happy to see you too, 'gumi."

gojo clears his throat, hoping that megumi will take the chance to introduce you two, but he is completely ignored.

"what are you going to get? i'll buy it for you," he states proudly, despite having zero money of his own.

your gaze shifts to gojo for the first time, and having your attention even just for a brief moment takes his breath away.

"that's very sweet megumi, but that's alright." you ruffle his hair when he pouts at your words, standing back up. "who's this?"

"oh that's just gojo. don't worry about him," he states with a wave of his hand.

the white haired man gawks at him in response. the nerve on that kid! he silently decides megumi will be losing dessert privileges for a week. no, two.

you stifle a giggle before offering your hand to him and introducing yourself as megumi's teacher.

he repeats your name, taking satisfaction in the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.

"that's a pretty name," he compliments, trying to recover from megumi's dismissal. "heard a lot about you. in fact, the kid never shuts up about you."

this earns him a glare from megumi, but gojo is too preoccupied with the shy look that crosses your features to notice.

gojo insists on paying for your order, a show of appreciation for taking such good care of megumi in class. you chat with the pair of them for a little while longer before eventually excusing yourself.

"thank you again, gojo-san. i'll see you on monday, megumi!"

just as you're turning on your heel, gojo calls your name and you look back at him expectantly.

"when, uh," he struggles, scratching the back of his neck. "when do i get to see you?"

nice.

"oh! well, parent-teacher conferences are only a few weeks away! i'll look forward to seeing you then," you answer sweetly, misunderstanding the meaning behind his words.

you bid them goodbye once more and they both watch your figure disappear down the street.

megumi turns to look at gojo smugly. "weeks? that sounds like a really long time—"

"shut it, kid."

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

♡ ring pops, chocolates, proposals ! ♡

katsuki loves you throughout the years.

BOOM !! surprise extra on your foreheads !!! this is basically a lil extra to rpp from katsu n readers pov ! i thought it was cute n i hope yall enjoy it too <33 !! much luv xx

fem reader, slight anime n manga spoilers ! food (candy and chocolate), jealous katsuki, mentions of dicks bc katsuki calls someone one, katsuki n reader are in their 20s, reader loves rain, katsuki does not, proposal, kissinggg, reader likes romance (implied sligthly), katsuki does not (kinda), soft n emotional katsuki bc I LOVE HIM FIGHT MEEE!!! RAAHHH!!!, short n sweet, proposal, lmk if i missed sum else !! <33

"for you."

katsuki, age 6 stands in front of you. no more words are said from him as he looks off to the side, beet red face turned away from you with outstretched hands. and clutched tightly in his hands, a ring pop in your favourite color.

you beam, immediately taking it from him. "thank you, katsu !" you chirp, quickly popping the candy into your mouth. katsuki's shoulders relax when he sees you've taken the offering from him although he doesn't meet your eye fully just yet.

"do you wanna share ?" you ask sweetly, already reaching out your candy towards him seeing that he didn't have one of his one in hand. he furiously shakes his head, pushing your hand back towards you.

"no ! and this one's for you ! i already got one.." he insists, shoveling around in his backpack before the crinkle of a wrapper grabs both of your attention. he pulls out the bag of sweet ring pops and picks out an orange one for himself. showing it to you while his eyes drift away from yours. you smile, seeing that you can both eat candy together now.

"i-it's a ring. so..you're my wife," he states. your big eyes widen at him and his glowing red cheeks. you look back down at the candy you've been eating pressed around your finger. it's bigger than the rings you see on tv.

you like katsuki. he was a little rough sometimes, and he could be a little mean. but he always played with you and shared his coloured pencils. he'd sit in the reading corner with you and hold your hand when you'd go on field trips.

"oh, really ?" your face heats, he nods. "want you to be my wife, cus haruto's always lookin' at you..a-an' you're my friend. not his." he mumbles bitterly. you like haruto, he's nice to you, but not as much as katsuki. katsuki was your best friend.

"does that make you my husband then ?" katsuki gets red to the tips of his ears and his nose is practically pressed into the collar of his shirt but he nods anyways. you beam again, the taste of the flavoured candy still on your lips. " i like that !"

katsuki blinks at you, chubby little cheeks pulling into a smirk and he drops to sit down next to you roughly on the grass. finally popping his own ring in his mouth.

"then you're my wife, yeah ?" you nod and he grins, you hear the candy clack around his mouth. "means you're only ever gonna be with me." and you nod again happily because you like that, you like the thought of only being with katsuki, because he's your best friend ever.

"mhm !"

"..forever." he adds tentatively and when you nod again he snickers to himself.

wait till stupid deku hears about this.

valentine's day was fucking stupid. and white day was even stupider.

besides them being the corniest holidays ever, katsuki finds the whole concept stupid. why do you need an entire day just to grow the balls to tell someone you like them ? and the worst part is that some fuckers have the audacity to try that shit with you.

katsuki remembers when he'd started despising the stupid holidays. it was in his first year of middle school and you opened up your locker to see some chocolates and a hand written note.

it was cheesy. and fucking stupid. but you smiled about it.

you fucking liked it.

the bastard even had the nerve to walk up to you at the end of the day, when you're supposed to go home with katsuki and end up coming over to his house to do your homework together (so he could stare at you) then stay over for dinner and play some video games (so he could touch you, poke your sides to make you trip up and pinch your nose when you end up losing to him) or watch a movie (so he could hear you laugh)

you were supposed to be all his. but instead you reassure him that you'll be back in a second.

and katsuki's antsy and so annoyed his skin prickles, but he swallows it down and drags his feet towards the gates as he waits, like hell he'll leave you alone with some limp dick bastard.

he did feel better when you said you rejected the loser, and he felt much better when you still ended up spending the afternoon with him. but he couldn't stop thinking about it.

valentine's day and such was so fucking stupid in katsuki's eyes. but maybe you liked it ? you never cared much for romance outside of those stupid rom-coms you like, but maybe there was more to it.

katsuki couldn't admit it to himself then, but he hates the holidays because there's a whole day for him to grow some balls and ask you out. and yet he couldn't fucking do it.

until his first year at u.a. and you hand him a box of chocolates.

dark chocolate, you specified. "since i know you don't really like sweets all that much." you said. the slight tremble in your voice made him swallow harshly. it felt different than the chocolates you'd handed out to your classmates earlier (which he was absolutely not jealous about. at all.) and the sheer size of the box compared to the little baggies you'd handed spoke too.

these were different. these were just for him.

his bag feels extra heavy when he walks home that day, and he's never loved chocolate more than the day you'd made some just for him.

"the chocolates weren't bad." was all he'd texted you (he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk to you properly on the phone that day lest you heard the shakiness in his voice.) but he knew what he needed to do.

and a few months later, white day rolls around and katsuki still thinks it sucks. it's a stupid holiday. but he spent the entire day making these stupid holiday chocolates for you. and his ears burn when he tells you that he only made these for you, because you're the only one he cares about enough to make some stupid chocolates for on a holiday he hates.

and you smile, so bright and pretty and so you. and katsuki feels like he's on top of the world when you shyly kiss his cheek, your hand in his grip on your way home.

he guessed he'll have to tell his mom about this..and maybe think about thanking her.

the day katsuki plans to propose to you, it rains.

and not even regular rain, a fucking downpour.

and due to prior experiences and feelings he’s had since childhood, he fucking hates rain.

but you love it. when you were kids you loved jumping in puddles and during morning time, you were drowsier and more prone to falling asleep when it was raining. when you got older, you'd always gasp happily when it started to rain, even though katsuki scoffed every time you did, mean mugging the window. he'd asked you what you liked about rain every year you were together, because it was cold, it made the ground sloshy and slippery and it made his quirk basically obsolete when he was younger and harder to use the older he got. there was absolutely nothing fun about that. and you'd always tell him the same exact thing.

"i like it 'cus i just do." you'd respond simply. he always raised a brow at you, but let it be. he couldn't change your mind about it and that was it.

with his proposal plans down the gutter, you're cuddling bed. you yawn in his arms, the tapping against the window putting you at ease. katsuki can admit it's not ear grating, but he'd much rather it just—not rain at all. and he wishes that so much more now, stupid fucking rain..ruining his fucking plans to fucking marry you..

"why do you like this shit so much ?" he asks you the question he's been asking you for years now as you lay against his warm chest. he doesn't mean to do it, only realising he's been asking you this practically all his life after the fact. and it makes him realise how long you've been together when you calmly respond the way you always have, cheekily smiling up at him.

you stick your tongue out at him "i like it 'cus i just do."

oh. fuck.

katsuki doesn't know exactly why that sets him off. maybe because the fact you've been together for two decades makes him emotional. maybe it's because throughout all these years your answer hasn't changed and you haven't changed and your feelings haven't changed for him. you still smile up at him, you did when you were kids when he'd asked you to be his wife with those cheap ring pops he'd begged his mom to buy. you did in middle school even when he thought you had a crush on izuku for a while and it made him act in such an embarrassing way he doesn't want to remember it, but he does anyway. you smiled up at him when he'd asked you out with the chocolates he'd spend hours working on, making them perfect for you. and when he'd told you to just move in with him because "you're basically here all the time anyway."

you've always been there, and he's always loved you. since the day you'd mesmerised him so much at six years old he had to talk to his mom about you.

katsuki absolutely fucking hates rain, and he doubts that'll change anytime soon, and it ruined his perfect proposal. but he can't hear the rain in his ears anymore when he abruptly flips you onto your back to kiss you. all he hears in the tiny giggles you let out when he smacks three wet kisses onto your lips before diving in for a longer one. i love you, they say. he can only hear your fingers sneaking into his hair and scratching at his scalp and the happy sigh you let out when he runs his tongue across your lips.

"m'breath stinks," you mumble drowsily, katsuki grumbles, pulling away just far enough to tell you "i don't give a fuck." and diving in again. you squeal in surprise. it's all he hears.

"fuckin' love you." he grunts against your lips, you hum, briefly able to pull away to catch your breath to tell him you love him too, and pulling him closer to you, the rustling of your sheets, yours and his, is all he hears.

"yeah ? you love me ?" he whispers, going to nibble at your ear. he's all over you, pressing sloppy kisses along your neck and you giggle, "mhm, love you." you sigh.

"fuck.." he breathes again, bringing his face back up to yours he presses his forehead to yours "fuck—so," he places another kiss to your lips, he gulps "so marry me."

and then you blink at him "what ?" you breathe heavily, softly chuckling. and the rapid beating of his heart is all he hears, but then your eyes go glossy and you whisper, voice broken and wobbly "..what ?"

he huffs to himself, his hands search for yours and intertwine when he finds them. like the day he'd pulled you over to his mom so he could ask her to let you come over to play at his house. like when you'd offered it to him when he took you to prom and you looked more beautiful than he could ever utter. he wonders how you'd look during your wedding. he's thought about it more times than he can count.

he takes a deep breath, not pulling away "i wasn't supposed to tell you like this, fuckin rain.." he scoffs. "but—fuck, i just—you've always been there, always been with me. since i was a snot nosed fuckin' brat and at times were you shoulda left my ass." he's forgotten the shit he wanted to say, simply blurting out what's on his mind. he feels a little bad, because kirishima had helped him with his speech, but his heart beats too hard to care.

"but m'glad you didn't. m'glad you didn't before and i'm glad you haven't now 'cus i love you so fuckin' much." you let out a giggle mixed with a little sob at his constant nervous cursing and it makes him smile lightly too.

"i know there are times where i've been a pretty shit boyfriend but..but i mean it, y'know ?" he sniffs a bit, and you shake your head "you've never been a shit boyfriend, suki. just a bit of a pain in my ass sometimes," you giggle but your eyes are overflowing with tears. he chuckles and fights back tears of his own with a sniffle again.

"yeah, major pain..but even still i—when i told you i wanted you to be my wife back when we were kids, i meant it. an' when that fuckin loser tried to ask you out on valentines day in middle school, i wanted to knock his fuckin' teeth in." he smirks, and you try to hide your laugh with a gasp "wanted to tell him you were mine."

"you're such a baby. i remember how pouty you were about it."

" i wasn't pouty," he rolls his eyes, his smile doesn't disappear. he wipes away a tear about to roll down your cheek before you can get his your shirt sleeve wetter then it already is "you could've just told me back then," you whisper, holding onto the hand on your cheek and pressing a kiss to his palm. katsuki feels his heart swell.

"i should've told you a lot of shit back then," he laments. he remembers when shigaraki put holes in him and the constant flashes of you on his mind. when he woke up in the hospital and you'd been there and he just couldn't tell you those three words. he'd figured that since you were both alive, he could tell you later when shit was less..messy.

except shit kept getting messier, and then when katsuki blew a hole into his heart he'd wished he could've told you how much he loved you.

but then he had gotten another chance, another chance to be with you. to be the best damn boyfriend in the world like he'd promised you he'd be, to make you happy, and he didn't care if shit got even messier, he didn't care to be scared. when he woke up with his mom and dad, a doctor and you. everything else blurred in his mind and despite your runny nose and your mix of how much you'd missed him and how worried you were but also scolding him on how much of a dummy he was, katsuki couldn't help but smile.

his mom still teases him about how the first words that he'd blurted out after waking up from his operation getting chastised by doctors were "fuck, i love you."

"but, i won't regret not telling you shit anymore. i won't wait any longer either," he kicks out of the sheets, reaching for the lowest drawer of his nightstand to pull out a little red box, grabbing you with him and placing you down right in front of him. he kneels down on one knee, like when he used to tie your shoelaces for you because you didn't know how to, and how he does to this day because 'you want to crack your head against the side walk so bad, but i don't wanna see that shit.'

he grabs your hand, and with a wobbly voice asks you "will you marry me ?"

and finally, katsuki stops hearing his own heart beat and hears the gentle tapping of the rain, still pouring, but it puts him slightly at ease when you nod and squeal out a 'yes !'

<33

[harrysfolklore]

can we have a little honorary wag blurb where she’s freaking out about meeting charles’s entire friend group but when she does , she gets along with them really well and baby chiara ADORES her 🥹

thank you for sending this request, i really missed writing about these babiesss 🥺🥺 i hope you like thisss

READ THE HONORARY WAG HERE

A few weeks had passed since Kika and Pierre’s wedding, and life had settled into a pleasant routine for you and Charles. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you were sprawled on the couch in Charles’ living room, a cozy blanket wrapped around you as you watched TV.

Charles was in the kitchen, making coffee. You could hear him humming to himself, a soft, contented sound that made you smile. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind, but you were finally finding your rhythm together, and it felt perfect.

Being his girlfriend felt perfect.

“Do you want anything with your coffee, mon coeur?” Charles called out, his voice carrying into the living room.

“Just some cookies, if we have any,” you replied, stretching out and snuggling deeper into the blanket.

Charles appeared a few minutes later, balancing two mugs of coffee and a plate of cookies. He handed you your mug and placed the plate on the coffee table before sitting down beside you.

“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip of the coffee. It was perfect, just the way you liked it.

Charles smiled and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “I could get used to this,” he said, his voice soft and full of warmth.

You leaned into him, feeling a sense of contentment. “Me too. It’s nice to have some time to just relax and be together.”

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment. “So, I've bee thinking."

You turned to look at him, curiosity piqued by his tone. "Oh? About what?"

Charles took a sip of his coffee before continuing, "Well, we've been together for almost a month now, and things have been going really well…"

"They have," you agreed, smiling up at him.

"And I was thinking," he continued, his fingers absently playing with a strand of your hair, "maybe it's time for you to meet my friends. My whole friend group, I mean."

You felt a small flutter of nervousness in your stomach. You'd met some of Charles' friends in passing, of course, but the idea of meeting his entire friend group felt significant.

"Your whole friend group?" you repeated, trying to keep your voice casual.

Charles nodded, his eyes searching your face. "Yeah. Joris, who you've already met a few times, Riccardo and Marta, and a few others. They're really important to me, and… well, you're really important to me too. I'd love for you all to get to know each other better."

You almost melted at his words, his green eyes looking at you with a tenderness that made you regret not looking at them for so long.

It wasn’t just the idea of meeting his friends—it was the way he phrased it, making you feel special, like you were becoming an integral part of his life. But at the same time, your nerves fluttered in your stomach.

“Charles, that sounds… great,” you said, trying to sound confident, but the slight edge in your voice gave you away.

He narrowed his eyes at you, gently setting his coffee cup down on the table. “But?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little nervous," you sighed, shifting so you could look at him fully, "They’ve known you for so long, and I don’t want to feel like the odd one out, you know? What if I don’t fit in?”

“Mon amour, you’re not an outsider," Charles’ expression softened even more as he reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers with his, "You’re my girlfriend, and that means you’re already part of my world.”

You bit your lip, still feeling a little unsure. It was a lot of pressure—meeting the people who had been with Charles through thick and thin, who knew sides of him that you were still discovering.

“I’m sure they’re great,” you said, leaning into him a little, “but it’s still kind of intimidating. I mean, Riccardo and Marta have a baby. What if I’m awkward around Chiara?”

Charles let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Chiara’s a baby. All she cares about is who makes her laugh and who gives her food. And knowing you, you’ll have her wrapped around your finger in no time.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, imagining a tiny baby giggling in your arms. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Charles replied, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Look, I get it. Meeting new people, especially people who are important to me, can be overwhelming. But I promise, they’re going to love you. And more importantly, I’ll be there with you the whole time.”

His words calmed the nervous buzzing in your mind, and you found yourself nodding slowly. “Okay. Let’s do it. I’ll meet them.”

Charles’ face lit up with that boyish grin you adored, and he kissed you softly on the lips. “That’s my girl. I’ll talk to them, and we’ll make a plan for next weekend.”

You smiled against his lips before pulling back. “Next weekend, huh? No pressure, right?”

He winked, squeezing your hand, “None at all. Just you, me, and my crazy friends.”

The following weekend came quicker than you expected, and before you knew it, you and Charles were standing outside Riccardo and Marta’s house, your heart beating a little faster than usual. The sounds of laughter and conversation drifted out from the backyard, and you could already hear Chiara’s high-pitched giggles.

“You okay?” Charles squeezed your hand as you stood at the front door.

“Yeah, just…" you took a deep breath, nodding, "You know, trying to remember how to be a functioning human.”

"Mon coeur, it's fine!" Charles gave you a huge grin, "Just think bout the first time you came to a race with Kika and met everyone. You were a natural."

You chuckled at the memory. "Yeah, and from that moment, I thought you disliked me for the longest time."

"Baby, we've talked about this," Charles raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "I was just... reserved," he said, his tone teasing but with a hint of sincerity.

You nudged him playfully. "You were cold! Barely even smiled at me. I thought, 'Great, Pierre’s friend is grumpy and doesn’t like me at all.’"

"And now, look at me," Charles laughed, pulling you closer, "Head over heels for you. Who would've thought?"

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. His eyes softened, and before you could respond, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss.

When you finally pulled away, Charles rested his forehead against yours. "I promise, they’ll love you. Just be yourself, like you always are."

You nodded, a small smile on your lips. "Okay, I’m ready."

With that, Charles opened the door, and the two of you stepped inside, the lively sounds of his friends filling the space around you. The air was warm, the atmosphere welcoming, and as soon as you stepped through, Joris waved at you from across the room, and Marta smiled brightly, holding little Chiara.

"Well, well, if it isn't the girl who used to roll her eyes every time Charles spoke," Joris teased, approaching you and pulling you into a friendly hug.

You laugh, feeling some of your nervousness dissipate. "What can I say? He grew on me."

"Like a fungus, I'm sure," Joris winked, earning a playful shove from Charles.

Marta spotted you both and beamed, making her way over with Chiara balanced on her hip. Riccardo followed closely behind her, grinning widely.

"Ah, there he is," Riccardo greeted, pulling Charles into a hug before turning to you with a bright smile. "And this must be YN. It’s so great to finally meet you."

Charles stepped to the side, his hand still holding yours as he made the introductions. "Riccardo, Marta, this is YN, my girlfriend. YN, these are two of my closest friends in the world."

You smiled nervously but warmly, offering your hand to Riccardo, who brushed it aside to pull you into a friendly hug. "We do hugs around here," he said with a wink.

Marta followed suit, hugging you carefully while balancing Chiara in her arms. "It’s so nice to meet you, YN," she said, her smile warm and welcoming. "Charles has told us all about you. It’s about time we finally get to meet the girl who’s got him smiling all the time."

You chuckled nervously, your cheeks flushing a little. "He exaggerates."

"I don’t think so," Charles teased, his arm slipping around your waist again as he beamed at you.

Another one of Charles' friends raised his glass from where he was standing. "And here she is—the woman who tolerates Charles better than any of us."

You laughed at that, feeling some of the tension slip away as everyone welcomed you with open arms. The introductions continued as more of Charles’ friends trickled into the conversation, each one greeting you warmly, making you feel like part of the group in no time. It was clear that Charles’ friends were just as kind and friendly as he had promised.

“I’m so glad you could come," Marta said as she sat down next to you, little Chiara still in her arms.

“Thank you for having me,” you replied warmly, already feeling more at ease with her friendly demeanor.

Baby Chiara’s curious eyes darted toward you. You waved at her with a soft smile, and to your surprise, Chiara giggled, her little hands reaching out toward you.

“She’s been so excited all day,” Marta said with a chuckle, adjusting Chiara on her lap. “I think she knew we were having company. You want to hold her?”

You hesitated for a moment, but before you could even reply, Chiara was practically leaning over to get closer to you. You couldn't help but laugh, your heart melting at the sight of her small, chubby hands reaching out.

“I think she’s made up her mind,” you said, taking Chiara from Marta. The little girl settled in your lap immediately, looking up at you with wide, innocent eyes before giving you a sweet, toothy grin.

Charles, who had been chatting with Riccardo and Joris nearby, turned around just in time to catch the scene. His expression softened as he watched you interact with Chiara, his heart clearly in his eyes as he leaned against the counter, completely mesmerized.

“She loves you already,” Marta said softly, watching the way Chiara kept reaching for your face, fascinated by your hair and earrings.

“She’s adorable,” you said, your voice equally soft as you gently played with the little girl’s hands. Chiara giggled again, her laughter filling the room, and you couldn’t help but beam at her.

Charles crossed the room, his eyes still glued to the two of you. "She’s not the only one," he teased, placing a hand on your shoulder as he bent down to kiss your temple. "She’s got good taste."

"You're such a sap," Joris called out from where he sat, grinning as he popped another cookie into his mouth. "Look at you, all gooey and soft."

“Careful, Joris,” Charles replied, smirking at him. “Don’t make me start telling embarrassing stories about you."

“Oh, I’d love to hear those,” Marta chimed in, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

“Hey, I’m not the one who once locked himself out of the house without pants,” Joris shot back, earning a chorus of laughter from everyone around the room.

Amidst the laughter, Marta leaned closer to you, her voice just above a whisper. “You know,” she said, glancing at Charles, who was still gazing at you and Chiara with that adoring smile, “I’ve never seen him like this. I can tell he’s really happy with you.”

Her words made your heart skip a beat. You glanced up at Charles, feeling a warmth spread through you as you caught his eye. He winked at you, completely oblivious to Marta’s words, but it only made the moment more special.

"Thank you," you replied quietly, feeling a bit shy under her knowing gaze. "That means a lot coming from you."

Marta smiled, patting your hand. "I'm really glad he found someone special. You fit right in."

Before you could respond, Chiara began fussing slightly in your lap, clearly looking for something. Charles noticed immediately and knelt down beside you, offering the small toy she had dropped earlier. As soon as you handed it to her, Chiara calmed down, grabbing the toy and happily gnawing on it.

"I told you she'd love you," Charles grinned as he watched the two of you.

"You're right," you replied with a smile, gently bouncing Chiara in your lap. "She's perfect."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. You found yourself quickly settling into the group, enjoying the way everyone seemed so at ease with one another. Joris and Riccardo were relentless in teasing Charles, often making jokes about how smitten he was, while Marta continued to shoot you knowing glances, clearly pleased with how everything was going.

At one point, as the evening wound down, Chiara started to get sleepy. She nestled into your arms, her little fingers curling around your shirt as her eyes fluttered closed.

Charles, who had been watching the whole time, leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "You’re amazing with her," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth.

"She’s the sweetest," you whispered back, glancing down at the tiny girl fast asleep in your arms.

Charles’ gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his heart completely full. He had never imagined that watching you with Chiara would have such an effect on him, but here he was, absolutely melting at the sight.

As the night drew to a close, Riccardo and Marta thanked you both for coming. “Next time, we’ll have to do it at your place, Charles,” Riccardo joked, clapping him on the back.

“Sure, as long as you bring Chiara,” Charles replied with a grin, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as you stood by his side.

Marta gave you a quick hug before you left. "Seriously," she whispered in your ear, "We're really glad you're in his life."

You smiled at her, feeling the warmth and sincerity behind her words. "Me too."

[kayesfanfics]

Hi can I request a femreader/ nightcrawler story where the reader is shy and anxious, while Kurt misunderstands this as her thinking he’s a monster?

But in truth she’s been trying to confess her feelings to him but she always backs out last minute in fear?

Thank you!

A/N: The way I’ve probably imagined this scenario at 12 years old laying in bed at night. I also made the reader friends with Rogue, Jean and Ororo since she’s closer to their ages

“Sugah, yer lookin’ more nervous than a long-tailed pussy cat in a room full o’ rockin’ chairs!” Rogue tapped your shoulder as she walked into the lounging area, where you were having morning coffee with Jean and Ororo. “What’s gotcha all riled up, huh?”

“Kurt’s playing basketball with the others outside...in shorts.” Jean quipped before taking a sip of coffee, a playful grin on her face. Ororo chuckled at the embarrassed face you made, as if someone just walked in on you changing.

“Jean!” You whined, face turning redder when Rogue started laughing.

“Oh, Y/N! We’re just teasing!” Jean giggled as you pouted at all of them finding your embarrassment amusing.

“I just don’t see why you haven’t told him about her feelings yet!”

They all knew you’ve had the biggest crush on the fuzzy blue X-Man, Nightcrawler, ever since he joined the team a few months ago. He was always so nice to everyone, including you, and he seemed to always say the right thing at the right time. He even made your morning coffee sometimes when you got up late, knowing everyone’s coffee order by heart by now.

The boys were outside playing basketball with Jubilee and Roberto, showing the younger ones how it was done. You watched out the window at the court, seeing Gambit and Wolverine battling for the ball before Kurt teleported between them and snatched the ball from them, tossing it into the basket and laughing when they both started yelling about the “no powers” rule. You smiled before realizing you were staring, clearing your throat and turning to Rogue.

“You know I get too nervous around your brother, I can’t even ask him to pass the salt at dinner!”

“Yer always nervous, that’s fine! But y’know, he totally likes you too. I can tell.”

“No he doesn’t.” You shook your head in denial.

“Yes he does.” All three women said at the same time, side eyeing you or rolling their eyes.

“My dear, Kurt is a very charismatic man, but he goes out of his way to make you smile every chance he gets.” Ororo set her hand atop of yours. “I even see a flash of disappointment when you flee from his advances.”

“Really?” You asked, feeling a bit guilty about making him feel bad. You were a generally nervous person, but your anxiety sky rocketed around him, your heart always felt like it would explode out of your chest when he got close to you or touched you. It was difficult to hold eye contact with him, your nerves getting the best of you and looking down at the floor while you spoke to him. You’d give him a scared smile when he handed you things, your blood running cold when his hand brushed up against yours during those exchanges. You often found your eyes wandering to him when he wasn’t focused on you, it was easier to look at him when you knew he wasn’t aware of you checking him out. You loved the way his tail squashed playfully as he joked around with Morph, how his ear would twitch like a cats when he heard someone new enter the room, how his fangs gleamed when he smiled or how his bright yellow eyes sparked with mischief during a fight.

“Okay…you know what? Todays the day, today I need to confess to him! If I don’t today, I never will cause I’m a baby and will back out.” You stood up confidently.

“Yeah! Go get em, tiger!” Rogue cheered as you walked away, then lowered her voice. “She ain’t gonna.”

“I think Y/N can do things she sets her mind to.” Storm defended you.

“Wanna put ten bucks on it?” Rogue raised an eyebrow and cheekily grinned.

“…you’re on.” Storm nodded, shaking her hand as Jean spoke up, saying she’d bet alongside Storm that you could do it.

“You know I can still hear you all?” You crossed your arms from the window, getting a closer look and watching Kurt dodge Roberto’s lunge. Your friends all laughed as you shook your head, trying to get ahold of your nerves.

How were you supposed to tell the most handsome, heroic, sweetest, most amazing person ever you were in love with them? Kurt was genuinely the kindest person you’d ever met, giving you butterflies when you watched him comfort a mutant child during a fight, or how he helped his teammates so gently when they were injured. You couldn’t fathom how people were afraid or disgusted by him, he was the most gorgeous man in the world. How you could see a tinge of indigo under his blue fur when he blushed or bruised, how sculpted and chiseled he was yet also was so soft to look at. When he wore sweatpants and a tank top after training one day, you swore you would have a heart attack right then and there seeing how attractive he looked in the outfit. You adored sneaking peeks of him working out alone, his muscles bulging when he did push ups or pull ups on a bar, how flexible and agile he was and how effortless he made it look. You’d stand outside the door until you felt you would get caught staring, not wanting to seem like a creep.

You were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts when the door opened, Wolverine carrying Jubilee, pretending to be limp and passed out in his arms.

“What happened?” Jean asked as the girls all stood up from their little coffee and gossip session.

“She tripped and scraped her knee trying to get the ball from Logan!” Morph snickered as they all filed inside.

“I’ve been attacked! He pushed me and now I’m severely wounded!” Jubilee whined dramatically as Logan set her down on the counter. You waited for Kurt while you listened to Jubilee and Wolverine bicker about the seriousness of her cut knee, feeling your heart skip a beat when he finally walked in, chatting with Hank.

“Um…hey, Kurt?” You spoke quietly, but Kurt’s ear twitched and picked up your shy voice.

“Yes, Miss Y/N?” He asked, stopping and letting Hank go ahead of him.

“I…um…could you find a first aid kit, please?”

You blushed when you heard your friends laugh behind you and Storm and Jean handed Rogue money, knowing Kurt was looking past you at them, wondering what they were doing. You felt like a dork backing out of confessing and asking him to do something you could easily do, but you changed your mind at the last second that you weren’t ready yet.

“Sure.” He smiled, before bamfing off. You turned and glared at your friends, before walking walked over to Jubilee, seeing blood dripping down her shin and gravel from the court embedded inside of it.

“Ouch, let me clean that for you.” You said and wet a paper towel, ignoring Logan saying how she was fine and it was part of growing up and being a kid. You kneeled down and patted down Jubilee’s injury, soaking up the blood and wiping out any gravel from the wound.

“Here you are, Y/N.” You heard a familiar sweet, velvety voice beside you. You looked over and saw Nightcrawler holding out a first aid kit from the nearest bathroom, a charming grin on his face.

“Oh, um, thank you Kurt.” You smiled at him shyly, before quickly turning your attention to Jubilee. You didn’t see the look of rejection in his yellow eyes as the irritated twitch of his tail at that, before he sighed and bamfed off again.

*a couple hours later*

“Mein Gott!” The mutant shouted in surprise, also not paying attention to where he was going before tumbling backwards at the collision. You were on your way to training, focusing on wrapping up your hands to look where you were going. Now, you knocked down the last person you wanted to. You felt bad seeing the gorgeous man on the floor because of you.

“Kurt! I’m so sorry! Here, let me help!” You held a hand out to him, but he got up himself.

“It is fine.” He said simply before walking past you, then suddenly pausing and turning to you. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure.” You fidgeted with your hands nervously, anxious for the question.

“Do you…have I offended you in some way?” He asked, his eyes flashing with a bit of sadness.

“What? No? Why would you think that?” You asked, worried your timid behavior had finally kicked you in the ass.

“You tend to just brush me off, I’ve noticed. Lately you don’t really look at me, you respond with few words to me. I just thought…maybe I did something to scare you? Disgust you? Perhaps I…you think I’m a monster?”

You stared at him in the hallway, shock freezing your thoughts for a moment. How could he ever think your awkwardness around him could be because you thought he was disgusting? That he thought you found him frightening? You hadn’t realized how not making eye contact or responding curtly would come across to him, a man who’s been persecuted and attacked his whole life for how he looked. He was the most admirable, amazing person you’d ever met and you made him feel like a monster.

“Kurt, no! Not at all! I just…I do like you, I do! You just…make me very nervous. More so than I usually am…”

“How? Do I intimidate you?” He tilted his head in confusion. “I do not mean to-“

“It’s not that, really. I uh…I just really admire you, I guess. You make me more nervous than the others because…because I really like you…a lot.” You looked down at the floor, shyly looking up into his eyes. His face relaxed when he finally understood what you meant.

“Oh…I apologize for thinking so little of your actions. You are understanding and non judge mental, I should never have assumed what I did about you. How about I take you out to apologize for my ignorance?” He flashed his fangs at you in a charming smile, slowly approaching you before he was close enough to hold out a hand to you.

“I-I…okay.” You took his hand and sheepishly smiled up at him, allowing him to guide you down the hall. “I’m really sorry I made you feel like I-“

“No apology necessary, Y/N, really. I’m just glad we’ve come to…an understanding.” He grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. You blushed and giggled at the action

[r4spb3rr13s]

holds out my hands

greeting my mcbling angel

maybe i pretty please ask for shoto, iida and denki meeting their own mcbling hottie 🙏🙏🙏

- 🍥 anon

pro heroes meeting their mcbling gf

♱ todoroki, iida, kaminari

♱ pt.1 here pt.3 here

notes : ur too cute anon 🥰🥰

Shoto has been stood staring at his options for soba for the past ten minutes. He’s deep in decision, hand on chin, in the middle of the store just before closing.

So deep in thought, he’s completely oblivious to you strutting round the corner to the aisle he stood in.

You’re on your phone, moving by muscle memory. Your favourite noodles are always in the same spot, so your uggs lead you to where the soba is-

But you look up.

Shoto- your favourite pro hero, for reference- is stood like the motherfucking Thinker. In your presence.

You backpedal, but it’s too late- he’s seen you!

Shoto turns you to and his eyes widen. You’re in a neon pink graphic cami, big hoops hiding from beneath (locs/braids/curls/strands) and as his eyes trail down…

His cheeks go as pink as the thong peeking out your pants’ waistband. I mean, Shoto didn’t really have time to register your slack jaw.

There’s so much running through your head at the minute- who wears a black compression shirt to the store? How are his muscles bigger in real life than on billboards? Why does his hair look so soft?

He coughs and it breaks the moment.

“Oh- sorry, can I just-”

“Yeah, I apologise,” He replies. When you lean over to grab your noodles, a waft of sugary, almost sickly, perfume hits his nose. It was intoxicating- not in a bad way.

You’re trying to steady your breathing- he’s just another guy, Y/n, chill! Boys fall left and right for you, just breathe.

Breathe.

“You’re Shoto right?”

Ohmygodidiotidiotofcoursehe’sshotowhaythefuckyo-

“Yes, that’s me.” He smiles slightly, corners of his lips lifting. Every nerve in your body is screaming to swoon - maybe he’d catch your fainting body?

You could look into his gorgeous eyes, and he’d brush the hair from your face-

“Is everything alright?”

You snap out of your daydream and smile awkwardly. “Uh… I’m just a big fan, is all.”

He nods and smiles down at you, softly. You clear your throat and hoist your bag further up your shoulder.

“I like your clothes.”

Your world stops for a minute. How do you breath again? It’s not hard, Y/n, come on-

“Where did you get the inspiration?” He says. Shoto makes no move to leave - you’re not an annoying fan, begging for his autograph.

Plus, you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen.

You blink owlishly at him - his heart skips a beat, of course - and you just nod dumbly for a second. Then, it registers that he’s actually interested in you?

“Umm… 2000s stuff, American celebrities mainly. What about you?”

Shoto huffs a chuckle, “I don’t really have style.” He glances at his watch, and his smile morphs into a… pout? It’s subtle, but his brows furrow ever-so-slightly, and his bottom lip just out a little bit.

“Oh God, don’t let me keep you,” You hurry. Good lord, your face is burning up aggressively.

He shakes his head, but bites his lip still looking at his watch. “No, I’m on shift soon… it was nice meeting you…?”

“Oh, Y/n!”

Shoto smiles again, glances at his watch with an internal frustrated groan. He needed more time to talk to you, to understand you, to get to the bottom of the neon pink and leopard print-

Oh, right.

“Could I get your number, Y/n?”

:::

Tenya spent his nights going on walks. Why? Because he liked to meet his neighbours’ dogs… did he know that’s why he liked them, however? No. He just thought walking around gave him immense joy for no reason.

And they call him ‘smart’.

His favourite dogs were the least of worries when he walked past the park and heard shouting.

Tenya’s head snapped to, and he was marching through the park gates.

You, a grown woman, were stood on a table, wafting away… chihuahuas. You, in a tiny denim skirt and a babydoll top, were using your small purse to shoo away a trio of stray chihuahuas.

In all fairness, Tenya disliked chihuahuas the most of all the dogs he’d met, but he’s never seen someone in platform sneakers clamber onto a picnic bench to get away from them. Or scream at the top of their lungs at the tiny puppies.

He could not help but let out a laugh at the sight, making you look up at him. You straightened up a bit and stopped screaming, but still sounded shaky.

“You’re that hero right?”

“My name is Ingenium, yes,” he replied. One of the rat-dogs had turned to growl at him now, but Tenya paid no mind to it.

You pointed at the dogs. “Could you… y’know, be a hero and save me?”

He raised a brow without meaning to. He shouldn’t be judging you for your fears - he’s a hero! Here to help everyone!

But still… three tiny dogs?

He sighed and nodded. Suddenly, all three dogs were in his arms, and being carried towards the kid’s sandbox. He paid no mind to them nipping and jumping up- not like they could escape his large forearms.

Large firearms that you were looking at with much interest…

He returned, ignoring the yapping puppies trying to escape the gates, but not being tall enough to get out. “I’ll call animal control, Miss…”

“Oh, just call me Y/n. What should I call you?” You asked, taking his hand and stepping down.

Tenya tried to ignore how small your hand was in his, or how your skirt hitched up your thighs when you stepped down. Instead, he helped you stand upright on your wobbly legs, and pushed down his blush when you thanked him.

“Iida. Tenya Iida.”

You looked him up and down. Tenya Iida was tall, broader than a fridge and had glasses you desperately wanted to push up his nose for him.

“Well, Tenya Iida… can I take you out for a drink to thank you?”

Tenya froze and he couldn’t stop the red that stretched across his face at your question. But he nodded. But it was so unprofessional! A true hero would never use a victim’s position to their advantage, the power imbalance was-

“I’ll need your number then!” You sang out.

Tenya’s internal protests were lost as he passed you his phone, and you type in your digits with your long, zebra print nails.

:::

Now, Denki has met a few of Mina’s friends. They were all… nice. He flirted casually, maybe exchanging numbers with them, but they never ended up getting a call.

So when Mina announced she was bringing ‘fresh meat’ to their group’s monthly reunion, he didn’t really prepare himself for much.

Then, you walked in.

All giggles, sparkly black eyeshadow and lipgloss. Mina was whispering in your ear before strutting you through the doorway, but Denki was more focused on your shiny lips curling up into a grin.

A black tube top held you in, pink bikini straps wrapping around the back of your neck. His eyes travelled down- shamelessly, might I add- to the leggings hugging your curves. ‘PINK’ written on your ass caught his attention like a siren, and your matching hot pink toes from your sandals didn’t help either.

“This is Y/n!”

Katsuki and Eijiro barely looked up, immersed in an aggressive game of … cards, or something - Denki was not paying attention to them. He was, however, paying keen attention to the once-over Hanta gave you.

Mina grabbed your bangled-wrist and tugged you to sit with her between the two boys.

The unmistakeable scent of sugar and apples wafted over his face when you sat down. You shot him a big, toothy grin and Denki thought he was going to short-circuit right there-

He didn’t realise he actually was letting off electricity until he watched your hair stand on end.

“What the…” You tried to pat your hair down, while Mina cackled behind you. The pink woman draped an arm around your shoulder.

“Aww, Denki’s all nervous! Look at him!”

You stopped focusing on your hair and looked at the man next to you. Lean, tan and blushing furiously. He was, in truth, letting sparks fly off him like a faulty wire.

You chuckled, “You alright?”

Denki did not know what to do. You were staring at him with a cheeky smile, eyes wide and soft, and his friends were laughing and pointing at him behind you.

“Yes.” It was the only word the poor boy could get out. You snorted at him and rolled your eyes, pulling out your phone.

He watched with wide eyes as you grabbed his hand but you pulled back for a minute when he shocked you.

“Shit- sorry-”

“Just put your number in my phone, okay?”

You held out the device in your hand with a cocky grin.

Mina had to usher him to another room to calm down before he blew your phone up in his hand by accident….

note: pls shoto is so OOC IDFK HOW TO WRITE HIM 😭

[girlokwhatever]

can you do like reader is mad at paige n paige yk the attitude right outta her?

CERTAINLY I CAN!!!!

⋆·˚ ༘ *𓍢ִ໋₊˚*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆𖡎 are you done yet? ,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

you’ve been wanting to leave this club for the past hour.

the crowd was large when you got here, but since then it’s only grown. the air is hot and tacky, causing you to stick to each person you pass. it was nasty really, even worse on the dance floor.

your feet were aching and the lace from your top was scratching against your chest, only adding to your discomfort. a sheen layer of sweat covered your skin from head to toe and it seemed everyone else was experiencing the same thing.

you were just leaving the dance floor, jostling around larger bodies to get to the bar where you last saw your girlfriend. she had been talking to some guy about basketball when you’d left, but now she’s replaced her company for a woman around your age. you were slightly jealous and definitely angry. she had barely paid you any mind within the past hour, constantly occupying herself with other people. even after you tugged on her hand and asked her so nicely if the two of you could just go home.

that was an hour ago though. your desire to leave only grew in the time frame, as well as your annoyance.

you walked straight to paige, trying to find your balance among the numerous bodies. there wasn’t really a chair available, so you opted for leaning against her, one hand at the back of her neck and the other adjusting your top.

“hi baby-“

“can we go?” the abruptness of your question shocked paige. her eyebrows raised and she gave you a ‘really?’ look. you’re deadpanning though, attitude written across your face in neon bold lettering. if she wouldn’t take your hints earlier, you’d stop dropping them.

she’s pulling you between her and the bar and onto her lap. though it relieves the aching in your legs and feet, it’s not really what you wanted. she’s leaning up, lips just behind your ear and muttering a quick “don’t be a brat.”

you roll your eyes at that, finding her antics absolutely ridiculous. you’d been here with her all night, letting her enjoy herself while you suffered. you usually didn’t mind going out and having some fun; the club tonight had been too packed for you though. everywhere you went, every time you turned around, there was someone within whispering distance to you.

at this point, you stop considering the consequences of your actions. you grab her car keys out of her pocket and leave the club. paige is absolutely flabbergasted, excusing herself and following behind you with haste. she feels her body grow hot with anger watching you walk away from her without so much as a look back.

why were you so pissed?

her stride is much longer than yours so she’s catching up to you in no time. she grabs your wrist and her keys simultaneously, turning you around and stopping you in your tracks.

“what the hell is your problem? hm?” she emphasizes her point with the tight grip on hour jaw, staring straight at you. you’re both tipsy, you more so than her, and it throws your usual rationality out the window. you push her away from you, watching with satisfaction as she stumbles back a step.

she makes you so angry but fuck does she look good. you’re scoffing right to her face and doing it loudly. as though her feelings are ludicrous, completely irrelevant and wrong.

“my problem?! you know what- whatever. you stay here if you want. i’ll walk home. need a break from you anyway.”

if you had left the last part off, paige wouldn’t have been as mad as she was. in all honesty, she would’ve just taken you home peacefully after giving you a kiss and apologizing for keeping you here so long. but, you did add the last part. you looked your girlfriend in the face and told her you were tired of her.

“say that again, i dare you.” her tone is taunting and you know it’s a trap, but you do it anyway.

“you’re getting on my nerves and i need a break from you.” you’re punctuating every word, but little do you know it’s only fueling your girlfriend.

as soon as you say it you’re being pushed into the backseat of her car. she’s climbing in after you, closing the door as she tries so desperately to fit her frame into the small space. paige pulls her loose hairs into a bun, leaning over you once she’s finished.

“wanna act so fucking tough and mean- gonna get rid of your attitude baby. till all you can say is my name.”

“i bet you couldn’t.”

oh. challenge accepted.

your skirt is hiked up, panties pulled to the side as paige prods you with her fingers. she notices the way the street lamp makes your cunt shine from your wetness, smirking at your situation. she’s knees deep into the backseat, pushing two fingers into you at once.

you cry out at the new and sudden stretch. she doesn’t give you time before her fingers thrust roughly in and out of you at a brutal pace. they’re curling inside of you, already finding the spot that makes your back arch to heaven.

“you like that?” you say nothing, make no motion of acknowledgement. smoke is blowing from her ears at this point, not able to believe how stubborn you’re being right now, even as she plunges her fingers into your sopping wet cunt. your silence only motivates her to speed up, because sure, you didn’t say any words, but your loud moans spoke for you. your body is so responsive to paige, it always has been. every time she touches you, you lean into it. every time she kisses you, you’re chasing her lips when she pulls away.

just like right now. the way your core tightens and she feels it, moving away and watching your hips follow her fingers when she denies you your orgasm. you’re protesting, begging for her to continue and cryimg out her name like a chant. your hair is already a mess and your girlfriend’s heart pounds, using every bit a restraint to stop herself from giving into your pleas.

“are you done being a brat yet?”

“paige-“

“apologize and i’ll let you cum, how does that sound?” she’s rubbing and kissing your thighs, watching the way you squirm at the proposal.

even from her position between your legs she sees the battle you’re having with yourself. she almost thinks for a moment you’ll brave the storm and say no, but deep down she knows there’s only one option for you. she can tell by the way you push your hips into her face.

“i’m sorry paigey. i was.. fuck- i wasn’t being nice. i’m sorry for being mad and giving you attitude.” your voice is weak and it’s turning her on so much to hear you like this, begging for her completely. she doesn’t know how genuine your apology actually is, but she doesn’t care either.

her tongue twirls your clit, gentle and slow to tease you. it’s excruciating, the feeling making you screw your eyes shut as your mouth falls open. you’re moaning her name out too, just like she said you would be.

she’s sucking on your clit now, toying with it and gauging your different reactions to different movements. she knows what you like already (nearly everything from her) but the look of pure ecstasy on your face will never get old. you grind your hips down onto her face, desperate to find your release. you can feel it tightening in your stomach and making your head spin, but just as quickly as it came, it’s being ripped away from you.

paige is sitting upright now, readjusting your clothes and wiping around her chin where she feels the remains of you. she’s licking her fingers and lips clean, staring at your shocked expression, one singular tear rolling down your cheek.

“what’s wrong baby?”

“you said-“

“should’ve thought about it better honey. i’m jus’ giving you space since you’re so tired of me. just like you wanted right?”

you don’t miss her shit-eating grin as she leaves the backseat. she plops into the driver’s seat, glancing back at you momentarily. she places a hand on your thigh and it makes you jolt at the sensitivity, legs aching more now than they were before.

“i hope it’s everything you wished for and more.”

*♡∞:｡.｡˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

paige is sassy and mean but what’s new??!

anyways, hope you enjoyed 😘

[shy-writer-999]

Summary: Let's balance out the end of kinktober with some toottthhhhh-rotting levels of sweetness. We'll make up for it tomorrow!

CW: Afab reader w/GN language. Teeny tiny bit of smut. Short and very sweet!

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

What do you look like when you’re angry?

How do you grieve?

When you’re sad, do you shut down? Do you curl up in bed and heave sobs, or do you favor silent tears trailing down your cheeks?

Among others, these are the things Law wonders when he thinks about you. He wants to know you—to really know you. To be privy to your faults, habits, and your quirks. The things about you that no one else sees. Intimate moments of suffering along with the day-to-day.

Do you talk to yourself when you’re alone?

What does your hair look like right when you get out of the shower?

What’s your favorite time of year?

His heart contorts into alien shapes when he sees you. He clams up. You have no way of knowing the intensity of his emotions, the weapons of desire that his heart and brain exchange. The magnitude of your presence assails his senses, quickens his breath, stops his heart.

He’s well acquainted with the way you laugh and the way your lips turn into the smile that he looks forward to every day. He tries to act normal around you, and he succeeds. He succeeds too well, in fact, he’ll never have a chance with you until he does something out of the ordinary.

He stares sometimes. You notice that, at least. But you try to play it off.

Law can only tolerate so much anguish until it bubbles over.

When he works up the nerve to kiss you, his hand lingers on the small of your back. Your eyes are open from shock and you’re rigid. You’ve mused on how his lips feel, if his kisses along your jawline would tickle, if he would run his fingers through your hair. What would his fingers feel like entwined with yours?

But Law’s thoughts about you go deeper than that. He passed that point—the point of fantasizing about being intimate with you—months ago. He still indulges, of course. When he does, he’s fixated on what your face would look like pleasure-ridden and fucked out. How your breasts would feel in his hands.

The day that Law kisses you, he makes you blush first. He’s awkward, or, if not awkward, something akin to it. When he smiles at you, sits by you at lunch, and finds you in the some random corner of the ship later, he knows that today is the day.

The desire and ardent admiration are festering inside of him and he can’t take it anymore.

He wants to know what your skincare routine is and hear your scratchy morning voice. He wants to wash your plate after dinner, to treat you as nicely as you deserve. He wants to give you the world, but your lips haven’t even met yet.

When they do, the world fades away. You melt into his embrace; rigidity dissipates when you realize that he wants you—that your desire is mutual. It’s like getting struck by lightning; an electric current sends sparks where your skin meets.

His rough hands feel soft as they cup your cheeks. When he pulls away, he holds you there for a moment. It's silent as he watches your cheeks dust pink and your eyelashes flutter.

“I think I love you."

oy vey my heart hurts. i need this man stat. TT^TT

here's my masterlist and here's my october posting schedule.

tomorrow is the last day of kinktober!!! :0

finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)

[mxstellatayte]

pretty please: chapter one.

pretty please masterlist.

chapter one warnings: lewis lowkey being a sugar daddy, (sex spoilers after this,) legal use of alcohol, consensual sex!!!, lewis is really good at dirty talking lol, lewis has a big dick haha, oral sex (m and f receiving,) multiple orgasms (f receiving,) belly bulge, praise (m and f receiving,) lewis hamilton aftercare king

chapter one word count: 5.3k (3k words of porn tho don't worry)

taglist: @pear-1206 @vivi-81 @irishmanwhore

join my taglist here!

you made me an offer i can't refuse

thursday, 23 may, 2019

you push out a shaky breath, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles in your outfit one last time before stepping out of your hotel room. today is the day you've been both dreading and looking forward to for the past two weeks- the day you interview the one and only lewis hamilton at the monaco grand prix media day.

when you'd been offered the opportunity for a one-on-one interview with one of the most iconic faces in both the fashion and motorsports world, you thought you were dreaming. turns out that the journalist who had originally been assigned to the project had a family emergency and needed time off of work, so the chance to lead the project was yours and yours alone. of course, once you realized that you were not dreaming, you accepted. despite your preparation, you're still terrified. you have ten questions at the ready in your small notebook that you've read over and attempted to memorize approximately twelve times each hour for the past three days, but the practice does nothing to soothe your anxiety.

"fuck it," you say to yourself, inspecting your makeup one last time before slipping your feet into your signature shoes- platform high top converse. once on the streets of monaco, you hail a cab to take you to the circuit, your black and purple media badge secure in your purse. your stomach is twisting with anxiety the whole way there, and when you pay the driver and step out of the cab, it only increases tenfold.

you're about to interview lewis hamilton. no big deal.

yeah.

not a big deal at all.

the next hour and a half is a whirlwind of meeting with lewis' manager to getting your questions checked over to getting a tour of the media center to seeing the recording booth where you're going to be interviewing the driver. it's a nice room, but it's separate from the rest of the media areas, so you assume it's likely not normally for recording podcasts.

"how long do i have before the interview?" you ask, turning to lewis' pr manager.

"about twenty minutes, but lewis is going to be here in ten for soundcheck. make yourself comfortable for now, can i get you anything? water, tea, coffee?"

"a cup of tea would be lovely, thank you." you smile and nod, sitting down inside the booth on the plush couch. in a feeble attempt to quell your nerves, you take your mini notebook out of your bag and go over the questions for the umpteenth time today, but the words on the page blur together as you try to squish down the stirring in your stomach.

"here's the tea for you," someone says, and you're expecting it to be the manager you'd spoken to, but when you look up, you're met with an unfairly beautiful face. oh. okay. this is happening. you're casually accepting a cup of tea from five-time world champion lewis hamilton. the man you're about to interview.

no big deal.

the interview goes by without any hiccups, and, before you know it, your hour in the booth is up, and you say your on-camera goodbyes before they stop recording. as you're about to leave, though, lewis gently touches your upper arm and asks to speak to you for a moment-

only if you don't have something to rush to, of course- and your heart leaps into your throat. had you said something wrong or hit a sensitive nerve with one of your questions?

"i want to thank you. not a lot of reporters are able to ask questions beyond the simple 'how do you plan on winning this weekend' and 'what changes are you going to make based on mistakes made at the previous race,' so i applaud you. your questions were really different from what i was expecting, and your interview style is really unique. i enjoyed talking to you." he extends his hand and you shake it firmly, your chest feeling like it might just explode with pride.

"thank you, mr. hamilton. i'm incredibly grateful for the opportunity to speak with you, and i'm looking forward to any i may have in the future." the driver beams, and you can't help but notice the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. it's annoyingly pretty.

"i won't have any of this 'mr. hamilton' nonsense. call me lewis. after talking to you for an hour, i can tell that you're very knowledgeable when it comes to both motor sports and fashion, which is really impressive. and i look forward to speaking with you in the future, too." the two of you chat for a few more minutes before he's summoned once more, and you bid your goodbyes.

a few minutes later, as you're trying to calm down your heart rate so that you can maintain some small semblance of composure before returning to the outside world, one of your long-time friends from college approaches you from behind, and, in her standard fashion, scares the shit out of you.

"boo."

you shriek, your previous efforts to stabilize your heart rate now entirely in vain. "christ, amelia! do you have to sneak up on me everywhere?"

"absolutely. i also have something to tell you something." your eyebrows furrow as she almost instantly moves on from the fact that she nearly scared you half to death mere seconds ago, but you almost fully pass away by choking on your saliva two seconds later. "you've got it really down bad for him, and you're not subtle about it. at all."

after you're done recovering from yet another near-death experience, you punch her left arm. hard. "you are so lucky i don't have a weapon right now." amelia laughs, her head thrown back and her shoulders bouncing with delight.

"awe, come on." she smiles at you, her eyes glittering in their signature way, signaling that she's about to drag you into a potentially messy and new situation. "you know that the rules state very clearly that there's a zero-tolerance policy for physical or verbal harassment."

i got it bad for you, so baby

thursday, 28 november, 2019.

it's your third time interviewing lewis in the 2019 season, and since you first spoke to him at the monaco grand prix, things have changed for both of you. following the success of your interview with him at the monaco grand prix and the article you wrote to go along with it, you'd been promoted from your previous position as fashion field journalist to the lofty title of fashion and sports researcher and journalist. as soon as lewis hears the news, he's sure to congratulate you, this time at one of the biggest spectacles in motorsports: the abu dhabi grand prix. you can't help but beam with pride when he mentions your new title, thanking him again for his time, and remembering to call him by his first name despite how strange it feels.

"i should be congratulating you on something, as well, six-time world champion," you grin, happy as your friendly banter with lewis seems to fall into place. your first time meeting him, you were so terrified of saying something wrong that you didn't let yourself really let go and show your personality. the second time, in mexico, you were able to relax a little bit more and even crack a few jokes. today, you're all smiles and even got breakfast with him before the scheduled meeting time. one anxiety you'd voiced was that the same paparazzi that you've worked with in the past don't take photos of you with the driver and sell them to the media, which would undoubtedly start a pr disaster for both of you.

"if you'd rather have breakfast in the paddock, i can have that set up," he'd offered, and, once again, who would you be to decline such a kind offer?

so here you find yourself, enjoying an expertly brewed italian iced coffee and two perfectly crumbly strawberry scones, sitting across from the reigning world champion of motorsport.

you know, standard thursdays.

"one thing i don't think i've mentioned before," lewis begins, setting down his cup of tea, "is how much i admire that you try to find the human behind the driver."

your eyebrows furrow. "i don't think i follow."

"i now realize my wording is really weird. let me fix that." you laugh, taking another bite of your scone. "you don't exclusively ask questions about driving. you dig into our hobbies and interests outside of the paddock. in my experience, the way you balance questions for both motorsports and fashion is fascinating."

"it's all part of the job. i wouldn't be where i am without interesting questions, would i?" lewis smiles, shaking his head.

"i doubt it, but you are pretty damn smart. i bet you'd find a way to make it here one way or another."

"i'm flattered."

the conversation continues easily as the two of you finish your breakfast, then, as you begin to prepare yourself to stand and leave, he stops you. "actually, there's one last thing i wanted to do before we went on camera."

your head tilts in confusion as you set your signature lipstick back in your bag, a deep red balm that you've used since you started working at vogue. it's become your trademark product, and almost everyone in the office knows exactly which one you use. "do i need to be worried, lewis?"

"no, not at all! it's this," he says, and your eyebrows rise in complete and utter shock when he pulls out a small box wrapped in white paper and a crimson bow wrapped around it all. "i wanted to get you a gift as a way of saying thank you for all the curveball questions you've thrown at me this year." your hands shake as you take the box from him, and you already know exactly which brand it is. cartier. sure, you've written pieces about their timeless looks and elegant aesthetics, and owning a piece of their jewelry has always been a dream of yours, but it's always been just that: a dream.

"lewis, i can't accept this. i- i'm honestly at a loss for words. seriously, no." you can't help but flush at how he's looking at you, those annoyingly beautiful eyes of his and the stupidly perfect crow's feet that only show up when he really smiles- when he smiles the way he is now. gods, amelia was right. you really are down bad for the driver.

"please, just open it up. if you don't like it, i'll take it back and you can choose something you prefer." he nudges the box towards you once more, and the crisp wax seal that sits on top of the paper is incredibly enticing.

"are you serious?" a part of you wants to think that this is some sick joke, that there's cameras on you and it's all going up on one of those prank channels on youtube. a much, much bigger part of you believes lewis, though. that is the part of you that takes the box between your shaking hands, carefully pops open the wax seal, nimbly unties the beautiful ribbon, and gently unfolds the pure white paper. when you finally open the box, you gasp, tears threatening to well in your eyes. "lewis..."

"do you like it?" his voice sounds anxious and hopeful, and you can't help but realize how much thought he'd put into this gift. when you'd invited him into your office to review some photos that were to go into an article in the next vogue issue a few months prior, he'd seen the vision board on your wall and asked about it. bashfully, you had explained to him that it was a silly idea you had when you graduated from uni with your friends- each of you made one, cutting and pasting photos from pinterest, magazines, newspapers, and anything you could find, assembling your dreams in a mishmash of colors and ideas. one of your dreams on the board had been to own this exact necklace- the cartier juste un clou necklace in white gold. the fourteen diamonds set in the precious metal glitter back at you, and you can't help but smile.

"i love it, lewis. thank you so much." he visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening and the crease between his eyebrows disappearing.

"i'm glad. here, turn around. let me put it on you?" you happily oblige, lifting your hair out of the way after you stand so that he can fasten the delicate clasp over your spine.

it's safe to say that both his and your fans noticed the necklace hanging between your collarbones, sitting just below the star necklace you wear daily on top of your dark grey high-collared shirt. you try your best not to look at the comments on the videos of your interviews, but amelia had shown you one that day after the unedited interview went up online.

"are they dating or something? i can't get over how lewis looks at her."

sunday, 1 december, 2019

after the race, lewis crossing the line not only in p1, more than 16 seconds ahead of the rest of the grid, but with the fastest lap, as well, you're sure to congratulate him on your social media accounts and in person in the pit lane. "lewis!" his head turns at the sound of your voice, and he sees you moving as quickly as you can down the pit lane, neon green paddock pass hanging from your neck alongside the black and purple media pass. your signature converse and light wash jeans complete your outfit, and his heart swells with joy when he sees that you're still wearing the necklace he gave you.

"hey! i'm glad they let you down here after the race. i was a bit worried i'd have to wring a security guard's neck to get you down here."

"aw, you'd do that for little old me?"

"i'd do just about anything for the most interesting reporter in the paddock," he replies, ever so cocky and so annoyingly pretty. seriously, was he a saint or something in his past life? it feels painfully unfair that he was blessed with such perfect looks and charm. it makes your stomach twist with a flirty giddiness you haven't felt since you were a teenager. it's exciting. "are you coming to the after party?"

"i don't know if i'll be able to. i have a lot to do in the next few days and i honestly don't know if i'm going to be able to take a break on the plane back to london. i'll probably be sitting in my seat going over notes and writing up an article or answering an obscene amount of emails."

"please? just one night? i'll buy your drinks." he bats his eyes at you, and it really shouldn't make you fold as easily as it does, but here you are, sitting in his mercedes and driving to a probably very heinously overpriced club.

a girl needs to be a passenger princess every now and then, right?

when you arrive at the club, you have to force your lips to stay closed so that your jaw doesn't drop in shock and awe. paparazzi swarm you as soon as you step out of the car and lewis hands the keys to the valet, and for a moment, you're convinced this is some sort of sick and twisted fever dream as microphones are shoved in your direction and cameras flash quickly enough to make you glad you don't have photosensitive epilepsy. when lewis' hand rests on the small of your back and he smiles brightly at you, though, you're reassured that this is very much real.

"after you." you smile back at him, your own anxiety lessening just a tiny bit now that you know that he's right there by you.

pretty please, come on over and ruin my life

how did you end up here?

you'll blame it on the alcohol.

either way, lewis' lips feel amazing on yours, and you waddle slightly as he backs you up to the bed in his extravagant hotel room. "need this off," he mutters, hands searching under your shirt and gripping at your waist. your brain is a foggy mess of lust, alcohol, and a lot more lust, and as quickly as you can, you pull back from the kiss (much to lewis' dismay,) tug your shirt out of your waistband and yank it over your head, tossing it somewhere to your right. almost immediately, strong arms wrap back around your torso and you're caged in, and every single one of your senses is flooded with lewis, lewis, lewis. his skin is hot underneath where your hands lay, your right on his cheek and your left clutching the side of his neck as if letting go would result in falling off the face of the earth.

his kisses are messy, desperate, and wet. his tongue glides along your own and you moan wantonly, the noise only further spurring on his efforts. as you lay back against the bed, lewis kisses his way down your chest (when did your bra come off?), lavishing each of your breasts with his tongue and hands. one hand works over your flesh, kneading and pinching while his tongue licks over your right nipple, gently biting and sucking and smirking when you moan once again, switching to the other side. "lewis, oh my god-" you interrupt yourself with an embarrassingly loud whine, your back arching as deft fingers pop open the button on your jeans, unzip the fly, and slip into your panties.

"fuck, darling, so wet for me already," lewis groans, his head buried into your neck as he bites gently at the sensitive skin there. "i'm gonna have to get a taste before i fuck you."

"yes, oh my god, please," you whine, the mere thought of the driver between your thighs making another rush of butterflies flood your lower tummy. you almost laugh when you realize that you still have your converse on and he's struggling with the laces, so you lift yourself up off of the bed and shoo his hands away, instead expertly undoing the white laces in less than ten seconds and kicking them off your feet, leaning back onto your elbows as they hit the ground with a muffled thump. "you are way too overdressed."

sure, you've seen photos of lewis shirtless before, but it doesn't compare to seeing it in person and up close, and...

fuck.

he's beautiful.

"that's not fair."

"what?" lewis laughs, crawling back over you after you both pull your pants off and toss them to the side, and your breath briefly catches in your throat as the scent of his cologne overwhelms your senses.

"you aren't allowed to be nice and hot. it doesn't work like that." lewis laughs, leaning down to press another kiss to your lips that intoxicates you more than any of the high proof alcohols you've drank in the past few hours.

"well, i guess i'm a rule breaker, then." he shuffles you up the bed so that your head rests on the plush pillows, sighing in relief when you think he's finally going to fuck you, but you gasp when he slides his way back down to your thighs, pulls them apart with his hands, and settles between them. "fuck."

"lewis, please. need you."

"what do you need, baby?" he teases as his hands begin stroking up and down your thighs. you're about to respond, but you cut yourself off with a cry when his fingers gently stroke up your panty-covered slit, the sensitivity making your back arch and your hands grip the sheets tightly.

"fucking hell, i... i need you to eat me out."

"i thought you'd never ask." his fingers tug at the waistband of your panties and you lift your hips slightly, just enough for him to slide them off of your legs and add them to the growing pile of clothing on the floor. without wasting a second, he dives into your cunt, tongue dragging along your slit from your entrance all the way up to your clit, and you both moan in unison. his hands grab at the meat of your ass, pulling your hips closer to his face, and you yelp, but it's quickly cut off with another moan as lewis' tongue prods at your entrance, hot and insistent.

"mmgh, lewis, fuck, so good." you barely have any control over your own mouth as lewis eats you out, his tongue expertly lapping up every part of your cunt as if it's the best meal he's ever tasted. he quickly figures out what makes you twitch and moan and focuses on that, his nose bumping against your clit as his jaw hinges open and he swallows you whole. his hands tightly grip your ass, the pads of his fingers digging into the skin and definitely leaving some form of marks to appear later in the night, but that's the least of your concerns when you have the world champion of motorsport between your legs. the moans that tumble past your lips echo off of the bare walls of the lavish hotel room, but not a single noise you make is embellished in the slightest- he's just making you feel that good. the coil in your tummy builds and builds, but your brain has been reduced to mush from pleasure, so you have to resort to scrabbling your hands at whatever you can grab, your fingers ultimately tugging at his neat braids. lewis thankfully gets the hint and only increases his efforts, his left hand moving from your ass to gently push two fingers into your entrance, and, when he curls them upwards, perfectly hitting your g-spot, you nearly sob, your orgasm hitting you a lot sooner than you had anticipated. "oh, lewis, don't stop, please. feels so good, baby, fuck."

lewis helps you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, pulling his fingers out of you and pressing a tender kiss to your hipbone before climbing back up to you and connecting your lips in yet another messy kiss, and you groan when you can taste your cum on his tongue. when lewis' boxer-covered erection grinds against your sensitive clit, your mouth falls open in a gasp, letting him take the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and run against yours. when you kiss him, it feels like you've stepped through the gates of heaven and you're kissing an angel. you suck greedily on lewis' tongue and he moans in response, making you smile into the kiss.

lewis pulls back momentarily and you pout, but the sight before you is absolutely beautiful. his skin glows with a thin sheen of sweat and his lips and chin are covered in a mix of your cum and spit. it's gorgeous. "are you okay with this?"

"more than okay," you grin, leaning up to peck his lips quickly. "it's fantastic."

"in that case, i'd love to fuck you properly..." at his words and the feeling of his lips ghosting down the side of your neck, pressing feather-light kisses along the sensitive skin, you shiver, your hands coming to rest on the sides of his torso. "if you'll have me, of course."

"please do." with another smile, lewis pushes himself up and off the bed, returning promptly with a condom in his hand. you bite your lip and watch eagerly as he pulls down his boxers, and...

fuck.

you're fucked.

"seriously, lewis? are you kidding?" your head falls back with an exasperated laugh, your shoulders shaking as you realize: of course he's big. if he's nice and attractive, then it's almost a guarantee that he's going to have a big dick. "you really just have it all, don't you?" the mattress dips, and you raise your head again, looking back at him as he crawls towards you, almost catlike in his motions.

"i could say the same for you. beautiful, kind, intelligent, an absolutely killer ass..." you scoff and roll your eyes, trying to come up with a cocky response, but your brain short circuits when you feel lewis begin to push the head of his cock into you. "oh, fuck."

"lewis, oh my god," you keen, your hands reaching up and finding purchase on his broad shoulders for stability. his left hand holds your waist while his right grips at your hip, the tightness of his hold almost painful... almost.

"baby, you're so tight. taking me so well. 's like you were made for me." you're pretty sure the words spilling from lewis' mouth are just mindless, sex-brain-induced babbles, but either way, it makes your pussy throb around him, and you both groan in pleasure when his hips finally meet yours. he looks down at you and almost chokes- you look absolutely stunning. your eyes are screwed shut, your lips parted as breathy moans sneak their way past them, and your hair is splayed around your head like a halo.

when you finally manage to pry your eyes open and steady your breathing, lewis is gazing down at you, and you can't help but pull him down for yet another kiss. how many times have you kissed him tonight?

not enough, you decide.

between soft and slow kisses, you breathe out the words that lewis has been praying you'll say: "you can move, lew." when he does, slowly pulling out most of the way before pushing back in, the drag of his cock against your walls makes you shudder, your nails digging into his shoulders and undoubtedly leaving crescent-moon shaped divots in the skin. "oh... oh, fuck, baby."

"you like that, baby? you like having my cock inside of you?"

all you can muster in response is a meek "mhmm," but that isn't enough for him. he grabs your face, forcing you to look at him, and halts his steady thrusts, making you whine.

"use your words. i know you can- you showed me this morning."

"yes!" you sob. "yes, i love feeling you fill me up. i love it, lewis. it feels so good. feels perfect."

"there you go. i knew you could do it." his words make you moan even louder as he resumes his thrusts, this time at a much faster pace. "fuck, look at that. taking me so well... i can even see it. gimme your hand, baby. feel it yourself." he places your left hand low on your stomach, just between your hipbones, and... oh.

oh.

you can feel his dick filling you up under your hand.

"lewis, oh my god!" your moans only increase in volume with his own when he presses down onto the bulge in your tummy with his hand, changing how deeply you feel him, and it sends you hurtling towards your second orgasm of the night embarrassingly fast. "fuck, fuck, lewis, don't stop. feels so good, baby, just like that, yes!" your own hand sneaks around his wrist and rubs circles around your clit, which makes you clench around him, which in turn throws you into your orgasm. "lewis, 'm cumming, 'm cumming, ah!"

"just like that, baby, cum for me. so perfect. so, so perfect." lewis talks and fucks you through your orgasm, his own fingers taking over when yours falter on your clit. when the end of your orgasm trails off, you try to catch your breath, but when your post-orgasmic clarity dawns on you, you realize that lewis didn't cum.

"oh, fuck, lewis... let me suck you off. you didn't cum."

"are you sure? i'm-" he cuts himself off with a grunt, his hips stuttering as he slows his thrusts so as to not hurt you in your oversensitive state, but when you nod, your bottom lip pinched seductively between your teeth, he gives in. "alright, yeah. yeah." he pulls out of you and you roll over, shuffling your way down the bed until you're settled between his legs, your arms resting on his upper thighs.

"you're so pretty, lewis. so, so pretty." if it was a bit brighter in the room, you would've seen the way lewis' mouth ticks open and his dick twitches at your praise, but the singular bedside lamp is barely enough to light the room. instead of noticing, you gently peel the condom off of his cock and toss it in the trash can underneath the bedside table, then settle back between lewis' legs and let a fat drop of saliva leak onto his cock.

"fuck, if you keep saying things like that i'm not gonna last long," lewis groans, his head thrown back into the pillows.

"oh, you don't want to hear me call you pretty? you don't want me to say that you're one of the most beautiful people i've ever laid eyes on, and that i've waited months to be here just to tell you that?" your hand begins lazily stroking his hard cock as you continue rambling shamelessly, your mind a sex-addled haze that you have nearly no control over. after watching in awe as a pearly bead of precum swells at the head of lewis' cock, you decide that enough is enough and that you have to taste him. your tongue falls out of your mouth, the flat of it brushing up the bottom of his dick until you reach the tip, and then you secure your lips around it, and fuck, if having the taste of lewis' cum on your tongue isn't enough to make your eyes flutter shut for a moment, you don't know what is.

lewis' hand finds itself in your hair, pulling gently as you begin to bob your head along the length of his dick, and you can't help but feel pride bloom in your chest when his hips begin bucking up to meet your mouth and hand, shoving the tip so far back you swear the back of your throat might be slightly bruised in the morning. you moan shamelessly as he does so, letting him fuck your mouth as he pleases until he cums, warm ropes of sticky fluid filling your mouth as he spills into you. pulling off, you swallow part of his load and clean what little remains off of his softening cock with gentle kitten licks, smiling faintly as he whimpers quietly at the oversensitivity. after crawling up to the head of the bed and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, lewis' eyes search yours before dipping down to your mouth. you're a bit confused as his left hand comes up to your face, thinking he's going to kiss you again, but instead, his thumb swipes against the corner of your mouth and pries past your lips, a silent order that you obey willingly. you'd missed one tiny drop of his cum on your cheek. his thumb pops out of your mouth momentarily and you collapse down next to him, the exhaustion of the jam-packed day finally catching up to you.

"i'm gonna go grab a towel to clean you up, yeah?" you nod sleepily, a quiet hum escaping your body. "you're staying here tonight. i won't stand for letting you out of my bed for the next twelve hours." this time, if a question mark could be a sound, that's the noise you make. lewis understands you, though. "we'll take my jet. don't worry about your fight." another content sound from you.

by the time lewis returns to the bed, warm damp washcloth in hand, you're asleep, and he can't help but tuck the strands of hair out of your face after he cleans up your swollen cunt and tucks you into the soft bedding, joining you shortly thereafter.

yeah.

he's fucked.

[lomltrentarnold]

someone — jude bellingham  ₊˚ෆ

contents: 1.6k words, fem!reader (she/her), fwb!bellingham is down bad, lil angsty but happy ending, they like each other so much SIGH

🍓 hana’s note: hi my loves!! hope u enjoy <33 i actually had fun writing this, please tell me what u think 🫶 sorry if nothing makes sense LOL

📞 main masterlist!

Jude was sure that the muscle on his wrist had gotten stronger in the span of three days. He moved to check his phone again for the hundredth time that day. The whole situation feels like a thirteen year old boy waiting for his girlfriend to reply to his text. 

The only difference is that he’s twenty one years old, and his ‘girlfriend’ is not actually his girlfriend. 

His gloomy mood attracted his assistant who was off clicking the keyboard computer.

“Whose text are you waiting for?” they asked, immediately bringing him out of his little pity party.

His heart stuttered, “No one.” he replies, shaking his head, before tucking the phone away into his pocket.

A skeptical look was thrown, “Yeah, sure.” 

Jude took a minute before he relented, “She’s…someone.” he sighed, not really in the mood to throw up his gut to his assistant.

He ran his hands through his hair down to his face, frustrated.

They were sure this ‘someone’ was not just anyone, “The same ‘someone’ who had you giggling and kicking your feet last week?” his assistant smirked, noticing the little smile that Jude always wears every single time he stares at his phone.

But not in the last few days.

Recently, he has been more sad when he stares at his phone.

Heat trailed from the back of his neck to his cheeks, “I was not giggling and kicking my feet.” tummy twisting with nerves.

“Oh, you so were. She has you wrapped around her fingers, Bellingham.” the keyboard clicking stopped, as a teasing smirk was sent his way.

Jude’s heart made a backflip–oh she definitely does– “She’s just.. special. And I really really like her.” his cheeks heating up more as your pretty face fresh flashes in his mind. 

“So? Why don't you ask her out on a date?”

He sighed, “I would, but she’s ghosting me.”

“Someone ghosted THE Jude Bellingham? Damn, your ego must be hurt.” they laughed.

Jude took a deep breath, “It's not about my ego, I just–” he paused, “I thought we were going somewhere, I like her and I thought that she liked me but I guess...” his voice trailing out as sadness coats his words.

His assistant noticed how Jude’s head dropped in disappointment, immediately feeling bad for him, and an idea lightbulb immediately went off, “Go to her place then.”

“What?”

The assistant shrugged their shoulders, “Go to her place. Ask her out.”

He coughed out, “She doesn’t wanna see me.”

“Ask her face to face, get confirmation. If she really doesn’t wanna see you then, fine. But try at least! Fight for her!” their encouragement send Jude into a full dedicated state. Already having a full plan in his head.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Screen lights from the tv illuminated your already dark room with a movie playing in the background. You really should be asleep right now. But your mind was too cloudy with a certain, seriously attractive, very sweet and nice footballer. 

What did you think was gonna happen?

Getting into a friends-with-benefits with someone you harboured a big fat crush on was not the brightest idea. 

Jude is a bigshot footballer, everyones’ starboy, all he needs to do is smile and all girls fall to his feet (including you). The strategy of pushing him away was pretty solid, considering that he might not even notice that you haven’t been replying to his texts. 

He probably has hundreds of girls on his phone anyways.

Not that you care, he can do whatever he wants, he’s not your boyfriend. 

Not your boyfriend. 

Then why does it still bother you?

A sudden knock, broke you out of your spiralling session, shooting your heart rate up. Who knocks at 2 in the morning?

A buzz from your phone alerted you.

—

bellingham :)

I’m outside your apartment

I need to talk to you

—

You contemplated opening the door, what do you even say to him? Another knock. 

Another buzz.

—

bellingham :)

Please.

—

The door swung open and Jude was met with the sight of you, with tired eyes and a scowl on your face. You don't look too happy seeing him, and he doesn't blame you.

“Are you insane?! What do you want, Jude? It’s two in the morning!” you huffed out, taking his wrist and pulling him inside. You do not want to get a complaint from your old cranky neighbours. 

Both of your hands tingle the second it touches, fingers twitching as you hope the other doesn't notice. You move to pause the movie, hands gravitating towards the blanket on your couch before draping it around your shoulders. Trying to cover up your well-loved worn pyjamas.

You look like a mess. 

Jude’s hand sweats in his pockets, his heart was pounding after finally being in your presence. With your messy hair, pretty droopy eyes, paired with your profile being highlighted by the tv. His heart rate shoots up when your eyes meet his. 

You look really pretty.

Focus, Bellingham!

He awkwardly coughs, trying to cut the thick tension in the room, “You still watching that show?” he voiced out, hand gesturing to the tv behind you. 

It was a show recommendation from him. You had made fun of it at first, but then the plot was too good to be ignored, you needed to know how it ends. 

You shrugged your shoulders, “Yeah, I was curious.” voice small as your hands tightened around the blanket, bringing comfort to you.

A beat of awkward silence went on.

And Jude has had enough of it and decided to go for it, head first, no thoughts.

"Why are you ignoring me?" he finally said, saddened brown eyes met yours. You can feel your defence chip away the more you look at him.

You avert your eyes immediately, trying to formulate words, "I'm busy."

"That you ghosted me for three days straight?" he scoffed.

"Jude-"

"I don't think you understand how much you’re in my head." his voice shook, heart trembling in his chest, “I wake up and my first thought is to check if you have texted me back and you know how embarrassing it is to not see anything?"

You scoffed, “So this is about your ego?”

“No! I didn’t say that–“

Another scoff, "Jude don’t lie, you get messages every single day. Your notifications are always flooded! Don’t act like I’m suddenly special!” you rolled your eyes, lungs burning with anger.

His face contorted into confusion before turning into hurt, “Did I give you that impression? That I don't care because you’re not special?” Jude’s voice cracked, maybe it was your head playing tricks but you swore his eyes were glossy with tears. 

Anymore second looking at him than you might just break. 

“Jude-” you started.

“Because I do! I’ll buy you more flowers, pick up your favourite coffee, watch those reality shows that you love so much, we can have a picnic or even a fancy dinner!” he rambled, hands animated as his feet started to move towards you, eyes pleading. “I really want this to work. I want to be in your life, as your boyfriend.” 

The distance between two got so small that you can feel his warm breath hitting your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

He smells like mint.

Did he chew one before he got here?

The call of your name hits your ears, his voice soft and sweet. You really like how he says your name. You miss it. You like him. You miss him.

“Please say something.” Jude whispered, eyes involuntarily dropping to your lips, cheeks warming under his gaze.

“I really really like you.” you softly said, nothing but a whisper but it sends just into cloud nine.

His eyes shined, mouth already opening to say something before you cut him off.

“But-“

His heart dropped.

“But?”

“Jude, you can literally have anyone you want in the world!” you raised your voice. Tears pricking at the edge of your eyes. Why does he have to be so complicated? Why won’t he understand that you will never be enough for him?

By now, he can have a general sense on why you ghosted him. You have been insecure and worried ever since this little relationship started. Jude partly understands it, his popularity is intense and the media is poking at every nook and cranny of his life. Judging at the littlest things he does.

But he also doesn’t understand because-

“But, I want you! Don’t want anyone else!” he exclaimed, big calloused hands move to the sides of your face, thumb softly running on your cheeks. “I want you.” he added, softly pressing a kiss at the apple of both of your cheeks.

A lovesick smile broke out on your face before you can even control yourself. “I want you too.”

Jude eyes twinkled at the sight. His heart elevates in the process. Was this a dream?

“Pinch me.” he snickered.

Your hands move around his waist to pinch his skin, “Dork.” you giggled, his smile getting wider at the sound.

A comforting silence blankets over you both. Smitten eyes staring at each other with heavy yearning. Hearts fully enamoured with the other.

A soft kiss was planted on your lips, tender and gentle as his hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He can’t get enough of you.

Your whole body was on fire. It has been so long since you both got together.

“Jude-“

“Mhm.” he hummed, lips still pressing against yours. His hands wander to wrap around your waist. It feels like he wants to eat you whole.

He definitely does.

You carefully pull away, chuckling at the small whine that leaves him as he chases you again, “It’s late.” you affectionately scolded.

“Let’s go to sleep then.”

“Together?” you teased.

“Yes, please.”

Well, how can you say no to that?

reblog for a kiss <3

[joemama-2]

this is not how you imagined your friday night would go.

you thought you’d be watching the stars by now after a nice dinner. maybe some compliments, maybe even a small kiss shared. or some held hands.

but no. because currently you’re seated on the expensive couch, eyes fixated on some random nature documentary because you don’t have the courage to face the six year old boy to your left and demand him to stop staring.

you like kids, but this one oddly makes you nervous, scared almost.

your date is in the bathroom taking way too long and you’re half tempted to up and leave. your posture is stiff, forcing yourself to find the screen interesting.

our of your peripheral, you can see the boy raise his spoonful of ice cream to his mouth, head tilting like you’re one of the animals being observed on the TV.

“are you the one he keeps talking about?”

confusion strikes you as you finally turn your head to face him. your titled head mirroring his own. “um…..i’m not sure.”

a part of you feels flattered by the sudden fact. is satoru really talking about you? but then an unsettling feeling takes place, one of hesitation and jealously. or is he talking about someone else?

“you have the black Cane Corso, right?”

ah, so it’s the former. you smile. “oh, yeah. that’s me.”

“what’s his name?” the little boy asks you, shifting his small body as the talk of dogs gains his attention by the second.

“sunny.”

his brows pinch together. “why sunny?”

“because he was a stray, i found him in a box on a very hot day.”

he hums and nods before asking yet another question. you forget how curious children can be. “is he nice?”

you chuckle. sunny has the stereotype of being aggressive due to his breed and size, but he’s anything but. he’s your gentle giant who gets scared of butterflies and plastic water bottles. “he’s really nice, he loves meeting new people and licking.”

you playfully stick your tongue out with a look of a faux grimace. this gets the small boy to crack a hint of a smile. it warms your heart almost instantly. “you like dogs?” you ask him, voice softening.

he nods automatically. “i really like dogs, i have two dogs. one is white and the other is black.”

“oh wow,” your eyebrows raise. “that’s so cool, are they big too?”

“mhm.” he nods.

you do a small look around. “where are they?”

he simply shrugs and answers, “they only come out sometimes.”

you want to ask what he means by that, but you figure satoru would best know. speaking of, he must be shitting a big one or he’s trying to calm his nerves inside that bathroom down the hall.

the little boy hesitates, like he wants to ask another question but isn’t sure if he should. you give him an encouraging nod and he sighs. “can you bring sunny next time?”

—————————————————————

“when you said you were fostering, i assumed a pet or something. not an actual child.” you tell Satoru as he’s walking you to your apartment door.

the two of you stop in front and he takes this time to grin. “do i not look like a boy dad?”

your eyebrow raises with an unamused expression. “no, first off, you look like a girl dad. and second off, does he consider you his dad?”

“nah, not at all. more like an older brother if anything. or maybe that annoying uncle everyone hates.” he reaches forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “did he like you?”

“i hope so.” your lips purse. “i wasn’t exactly ready to pitch myself as a good person tonight to some kid.”

satoru chuckles, thumb lingering on your cheek. “don’t need to pitch yourself, just be you and he’ll like you just as much as i do. well—actually—hopefully not as much. i’d hate to have competition.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “he did mention a next time, though. wants me to bring my dog.”

“you mean that oversized human on all fours?”

your hand collides with his shoulder. he laughs and intertwines your fingers with his. “kidding, kidding. don’t get violent, at least not now.”

leaning down, his lips kiss your forehead smoothly, they linger for a few seconds before he mutters against your skin. “his names megumi, i hope you’ll get along.”

your stomach flutters during this moment, relishing in the easy and comfortable intimacy. you nod and murmur back. “of course.”

he pulls back and smiles down at you. just as he’s about to speak another cheesy line, you beat him to it.

“so….you talk about me a lot?”

[sweetnans]

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K. (pt.7)

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

Smut ahead, minors do not interact

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6♡

m.list

The date with Todoroki was breathing inches away from your neck, and your ankle was far away from being completely healed. Recovery girl was making all her efforts to put it back in place, but the swell and the red were difficulting the process.

"Tell me you can fix this," you begged to the woman.

"Don't worry, I'll have it done before you know it, lay down and relax, it'll make it easier" She said smiling warmly at your state.

You slept the equivalent of four hours in the span of two days. You were beat, so the sentence lay down and relax was sent from heaven.

You did lay down and relax for six hours, and when you woke up, your ankle was wrapped in bandages and a certain someone was by your side.

"How was the date?" He asked.

"There's no respect anymore, I just opened my eyes," you joked, stretching your arm for a glass of water that you knew Recovery Girl left in the table. He grabbed the glass and handed it to you. "Thanks"

"So?" He was eager to know.

"Well, aside from my ankle, it was pretty nice. He behaved like a gentleman if that's what concerns you. " You gulped the water down your sore throat.

Aizawa watched you carefully. Since almost 5 years, he turned from teacher to a father, but it was a daily challenge mantain two young girls that were in different stages in their life.

"Mrs. Bakugo called me to congratulate me for having a really nice and well-mannered daughter. I know she wasn't talking about the unhinged teenager busting my windows with indie music. " He smirked playfully, and you rolled your eyes.

"That's odd," you said, accommodating yourself in the bed. "Since when does she prefer indie music?"

"Nice try on making me forget about the elephant in the room," he stated, leaning on his chair a bit. "So, are you going to tell me what happened? Or do I have to find out from someone else, like when Mrs. Bakugo told me that my daughter sprained her ankle at her party?"

"There's nothing to explain, actually. We were about to go home when a slow dance crossed in front of us, so he said hey one last dance? And I said yeah, why not? And then tragedy, " you puked your words out.

"Yeah, that matches the description" he hummed in response.

"What description?"

Talking to Aizawa was always so cryptic. You just had six hours of sleep. Your head fetl like a feather, and he started to play around with hidden clues and schemes of secrets.

"Oh, before I forget, your phone is off, Bakugo started calling non-stop, and he was getting in my nerves,"

He said like he was parting ways, but he didn't lift or move a single muscle to get up of his seat. It was a trap.

"Why didn't you pick up?" You asked fetching your phone to turn it on. Jirou would definitely be there with hundreds of texts unanswered.

"Oh, I didn't have the chance before he appeared at the door," he shrugged, pointing at his back with his thumb

You were so mesmerized by the logo of your phone and disoriented that you felt like you didn't catch exactly what he said.

"Come again?" You squinted your eyes at him. "What did you just say?"

"Bakugo and me had a very pleasant chat"

Oh, he was enjoying your suffering. What was happening to the world that all of a sudden, it was the funniest thing to mess up with you?

"You didn't," you said at the same time that he was nodding.

According to what he said, when he saw you in the dress the day before, you were actually pissing yourself to know, but the thought of it came with an immeasurable amount of denial. What could they have talked about? Did you or did you not want to know?

"Relax," he said, stopping the cartwheels in your head. "He told me how it happened." he glanced at your now normal ankle. "And that he was very sorry that he couldn't stop it. That's why I said it matched the description, what you said, and what he said, but do you know what doesn't match the description?"

You were almost afraid to ask. He had his purpose, and you led him exactly where he wanted you. Being a parent wasn't easy, but Aizawa knew damn well how to play his cards when it came to his daughters.

You looked at him, waiting for him to continue the interrogation. He sighed defeated.

"Eri told me about your date with Todoroki, I thought that maybe she was confused, but then I realized when Bakugo told me that he invited you at the last minute, that there wasn't any chance for Eri to know that piece of information even as nosy as she is"

Busted.

After what Jirou said that morning and with Aizawa looking at you, not with disappointment eyes, more like with I don't understand eyes is that you realized that you were in fact betraying at yourself.

You wouldn't lie. Last night, you were just a twisted ankle away to kiss him.

You were madly in love with the concept of love, and even though all this Bakugo mess started like a mistake, it suddenly evolved to something else. You were catching feelings for the bastard. And you couldn't deny it anymore.

He also played his cards very well, being the stubborn asshole who eagerly wanted to get to know you to the point of pushing you out of your comfort zone to in fact, have a good time to him. The one night stand was surely a mistake, your first time doing something so reckless and so unlike you. You wanted to get rid of him because he was the walking reminder of something that didn't describe you at all, but then he turned it in a way you didn't see coming.

Does he feel the same for you? Doubtful. It wasn't a secret that he was used to those encounters you wanted to avoid. The adamant behavior of getting your attention was just the ego boost he needed after you completely flicked him off.

You liked him. As a friend and with real and not so friendly feelings, but you weren't sure that his acts towards you had the same meaning.

"I know what you're thinking, and you're totally right," you said. There was nothing to be ashamed of exploring your options. Todoroki was hot. He was kind, but you had your mind wrapped around another man, and it wasn't fair for him.

"I mean, he's a nice guy, but after my secret conversation with Bakugo, it seems he's not playing around when It comes to you"

You rolled your eyes, and his brows furrowed.

"Just because he wanted to be heroic doesn't mean he's into me. Isn't that the purpose of this school? Acting like heroes when someone is in distress?"

"Yes, it is, but believe, calling the victim twenty times in one hour doesn't seem like the school purpose to me"

Oh, the world was ending. He was delusional too.

"He felt guilty because he handed me the heels," you murmured, trying to convince him and yourself that he wasn't into you that way.

"I'm just pointing at the facts," he stated, smacking his palms on his knees. "About the Todoroki date, are you sure you want to go in that state? You can always say I didn't let you go"

That state had different meanings. One of them was about the now normal but partly healed ankle, and the other was about your train of emotions that was ready to crash.

Dadzawa always setting the bar higher and breaking the daddy issues.

"It's okay. I can't leave him hanging, and besides, I can always turn a romantic date to something completely platonic. I'll give it another try when I get hold of my feelings again, " you smiled through the tumultuous feeling of something breaking slowly inside of you.

You were stuck. Stuck in the moment where you don't know what to do with your feelings, and also, you don't want to hurt somebody else for the sake of it.

...

Bakugo had a rough night. He woke up several times at night wondering of your state. He paced through his bedroom, feeling extremely guilty for not taking you straight to the emergency room. At the first light, he started texting you. The double check stared at him but never changed its colors. Shit.

He started calling after it. The first times the waiting tone received him and made him curse under his breath, and then after what it felt like the twentieth time, the call didn't even get past the first beep. Disconnected.

That was the sign he needed to get his jacket, put on some trousers and go to your room.

"Oh my god, stop it," Jirou spoke through the cloaed door inside, annoyed with the loud knocking that reverberated in the hallway. "What do you want?" She said before realizing that Bakugo was in front of her.

"Where is she?" He asked, gasping for air. He ran from his building to yours and took the stairs in both of them.

Jirou was visibly asleep before he came. She had a lousy shirt and she was barefooted.

"Uhm I took her to recovery girl, and she swore that she would be fine," she said, glaring at the windows. "But now that you mention it, what time is it?"

"It's almost nine," he said, grabbing his phone to check the clock.

"Jeez, I took her at six this morning. She hadn't texted you?"

Jirou walked inside the door, and Bakugo followed. Your bed was made, and there were wrinkles on the duvet. He realized that you didn't catch an eye last night and felt guiltier than ever.

"She didn't text me either"

The state of Jirou was the same as you. Barely three hours of sleep did its damage on her face, and the bags under her eyes were really showing it.

"Don't worry, I'll go check on her, and I'll text you. Go back to sleep ears. " He threw the nickname to level the kindness so unlike him.

Jirou raised her eyebrows at him, very surprised and now surely convinced on what team she was.

The way to the infirmary was long enough to gather his thoughts about you, what to say, and how to approach the fact that you almost kissed last night. He was head over heels over you, and even though he was known to be a full player who liked to mess around with chicks, the gossip about it wasn't totally like that. He never had the need to dissipate the rumors because he realized that if he'd say something about everything that people invented about him he would spend all his college years trying and convincing the people to believe him and that wasn't who he was. He acted by instinct, he made the rules, and he would never follow a bunch of assholes who got nothing better to do than to spread useless information about him.

He never felt the urge to see someone in a desperate way that he was feeling at that moment. He was basically running to get to you through the crowded hallways, bumping into people's shoulders.

How did this happen? A week ago, you were just a pain in the ass, a little and invisible splinter in his skin that bothered more than hurt. He didn't know you very well, but when it came to you, he felt overprotective, he felt like he needed to see you more, to know every little piece of information about your life, damn he didn't even know your backstory aside from stripes of details that people said about you but nothing else, he wanted more and he would do anything to guarantee his stay in your life.

"Bakugo"

The voice of the man who was his teacher on his annoying ages startled him. He was outside the infirmary, his arms crossed over his chest and with the same exhausting look on his eyes.

"Mr. Aizawa" Bakugo felt like all the air of his lungs was pulled out.

"She's fine. She's resting" straight to the point like always. "Her ankle is healed too"

"That's very good news, sr," he said, stuffing his hands on his pockets.

"Yeah," Aizawa nodded. "I was wondering why you didn't tell me"

Damn. The man could be frightening even for Bakugo.

"I don't have any excuse," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "She told me she'd be fine and Iet her, that was so reckless of me." The last part was more for Bakugo than Aizawa. He should've grabbed you and tossed you on his shoulder to the emergency room.

"She's so stubborn" Aizawa stated rolling his eyes and eyeing you from the outside. You were still deep asleep. "She wouldn't have let you, don't be so hard on yourself"

"Yeah, but it was the right thing to do," he said, looking at you too. Your face was relaxed, and your mouth was slightly open to let the air get out of your system. He felt his stomach flutter.

"Your mother called me this morning and told me what happened, I'm glad she was with you." Aizawa was trying not to scare the boy, but it was difficult when you were the one injured. He wanted to say thank you without saying it just to mess with Bakugo. He hoped the poor guy was smart enough to read his intentions. "Before you picked her up, I went to her room, and she was happy, I haven't seen her that happy in a long long time"

He left the "thank you" hanging, but Bakugo knew damn well what followed the last sentence. His cheat puffed out, and he was motivated enough to tell you everything when you woke up.

"I'll stay with her until she wakes up, go to class, I'll tell her to reach for you once she's fine"

Bakugo nodded, and even though he didn't want to leave you, he needed to gather his feelings to come up with the best idea to actually confess.

...

The day went by, and you lingered in your room, watching three outfits laid in your bed. Three different choices, and you liked all of them. That was the first reason why you felt like the date with Todoroki suddenly, and because of your feelings, was turning slowly into something very, very friendly and platonic. You had three choices, and you liked all of them. If the said date was something with relevance, you would be losing your mind over it and in reality you were feeling very chill about it.

You picked a white top and some baggy jeans. It was casual. Todoroki sent you the address at lunch, and you knew the bar very well. Many students went there to watch games or to cry about academic failures.

He didn't pick you up. Instead, you walked alone to the place. It was crowded, and plenty of people were there enjoying themselves, sipping beer and cackling about dumb jokes.

You found your date in the corner of the room in a booth, he was mindlessly scrolling through his phone when you approached.

"Hi," you said, smiling brightly at him.

He did the same and returned the greetings.

"I thought on waiting for you outside your building, but I was coming from the opposite direction," he excused himself the minute you got a seat.

"Don't worry about it," you discarded his apologies. "I completely understand, and besides, the air is warm enough to stay in the open"

"You're right." he played with the napkin under his hand.

The ambient didn't change one bit. It was awkward like the two of you knew that it wasn't going to work or regretted the date right before it happened.

It felt like a huge weight in both of you. Gladly, the drinks appeared not much after the awkward silence, so you jumped into the opportunity of letting go a litte of that enormous tension in the air.

After a sip or two of your drink, you let your tongue take the upper hand of the conversation. You talked about the agency of his father, about some other heroes, college stuff, and people. He told you about his years in UA high school, how class 1A behaved, and how Aizawa was as a teacher.

"And Bakugo, he was the most annoying prick of all, but I liked him, I discovered that pretending and calling him my friend was funnier than to try to ignore his attitude, he changed tho, after the war"

Todoroki was matching your drinking speed, and the date turned into a hangout between two longtime friends.

You laughed about him being so oblivious about people, and he laughed at you very subtly about your stories. You two got along very well, and you felt relaxed when the date lost its label.

"God, I'm really having a good time, you know, I was pretty nervous when you asked me out, and then something changed, and I almost bail, I'm so glad that I didn't"

You speaking more than you should was so you when it came to drinking. You stopped at the third, you weren't drunk just a little tipsy, very aware of your surroundings but not very in control of your mouth.

"I felt the same, don't misunderstand this, you're very pretty and you always caught my attention but yesterday I was scrolling through media and I saw a picture of you and Bakugo at some sort of gala. The date felt wrong after that"

The comment didn't hurt at all. You felt sorry.

"It was so unexpected," you said without trying to justify yourself.

"I heard the rumor, and I remember talking with Midoriya that Bakugo needed some grounding. You humbled him, you're our heroe"

Despise the fact that your act was very public and spoke out loud. You nodded, raising your glass and waiting for him to cling his against yours.

"What a nice surprise, what are we celebrating guys?"

The noise of the glasses clinging died under the voicr of Bakugo, who was suddenly standing beside your booth.

You wanted to die.

"What are you doing here?" You blurted in a messy way.

"I was just passing by," he answered curtly. "Icy-hot I haven't seen you in ages"

The way your eyebrows almost went to the back of your head because of his lack of manners was above you. He ignored you completely to engage a conversation with your so-not date. You were confused and staring at him while he made a huge effort to forget you were right under him in the booth.

"Excuse me," you said, moving his big and bulky body out of your way to go to the bathroom. You pointed to the restrooms to Todoroki, and he nodded, Bakugo leveraged the momentum to scoot himself in your seat.

Your head was buzzing, and suddenly, the effect of the alcohol was banished. You took your phone from the back pocket of your jeans and dialed Jirou's number.

"You're speaking to Denki. Who's there?" You never thought you would be so happy to hear your friend's voice.

"Thank god, put it on speaker," you waited for a moment and then continued. "Bakugo's here talking with my fucking date"

"WHAT?"

The sound of Jirou's drumsticks hitting the floor was loudly enough to have you to take the phone far from your ear.

"I know, I don't know what to do," you said, looking at yourself in the mirror' stall.

"Did he say something?" Jirou asked.

"No, he completely ignored me"

"He's pissed," Denki added, laughing. You heard how Jirou smacked his arm through the phone.

"I texted him earlier about my ankle, but he didn't answer me back. It's not like I could possibly have told him about the date which, just so you know, turned into a not date"

"I'm going to ask for the latter later, where are you hiding?" Jirou said concern dripping from her voice.

"I'm in the bathroom hiding. This sucks. I feel like I have to explain myself, but again, why? I'm not doing anything wrong, and we are nothing and-" you mumbled.

"What about the kiss?" Your friend interrupted and Denki gasped.

"What kiss??"

"There wasn't a proper kiss. It was just the impulse. " You tried to dissipate the chaos.

"I say you go back and tell them you threw up and want to go home, we can pick you up if you want"

You were gathering your options. They were just a few and one worse than the other.

"I'm fine. I'll hold it until Bakugo decides he wants to leave and then everything will be okay again"

Jokes on you. Your date evolved into a threesome.

Todoroki, Bakugo, and you were sharing drinks and awkward conversations where the main topic was something that completely left you out. You were shrinking in your seat, hoping to disappear.

"And then he forgot to pull the lever." Bakugo laughed above the music. He had several drinks on his body, and you were fully sober by the time he decided to stop.

A weird and sudden silence fell amongst yourselves, and you knew it was your chance to finally end your torture.

"Oh my god, how late is it?" You widened your eyes watching your phone and locking it immediately, if someone dared to ask you the time you would have no idea. "I'm going to call it a night, but you two can stay and enjoy, please don't let me stop you"

You urged Bakugo to step the hell up for you to run the far away and as soon as possible.

"You're right. It's been a long night. Since we're heading to the same point, I should walk you home, or do you want to do it, Todoroki?"

Always so polite. And so uncalled.

You could feel the headache forming in your head.

"It's fine by me, I'm going to stay for a while anyways, Midoriya is ending his shift at the agency, so we're going to meet here for some beers" he looked at you. "Is okay with you?"

Internally, you were begging for him to invite Bakugo to stay too. In the outside you shrugged.

"I'll make sure she's safe and sound." he passed his arm behind your back and started moving you towards the exit.

What the future had for you was nothing else than a long and bizarre trip back home.

The walk back the buildings was silent. You shrugged under his arm because of the cold breeze that penetrated your bones.

"Here," he took off his jacket and handed it to you.

"Thanks," you muttered.

You could tell that he was pissed as Denki said. The audacity of the man and the act he played was beyond your own imagination.

You made a mistake. That was something obvious, but he came out of nothing without knowing the entire context. Besides that, he crashed your date without any explanation because you could definitely have your ideas of it, but none of them were fully confirmed.

"My building is over there," you said when suddenly he was walking you towards his building instead of yours.

"I figured that if we are already out this late, maybe we should prolong the night a bit"

His gruff voice did nothing to hide the fact that he felt jealous because of the scene he found in the bar. He went there to have a whisky or too just to cool off his predicament of how to say to you what he actually felt for you. He wasn't very kin to verbalize his emotions, and there was always a chance that they came out wrong. He wanted to avoid that.

Bakugo guided you to his room. For some reason, you were feeling the need to say something about the date with Todoroki to explain yourself. But you were torn inside. What if he didn't care and you were making everything you thought he felt up?

You carried your feet along the stairs without even caring about your ankle. Your mind was clouded with racing throughts that were scrambling your brain.

Without noticing, you were inside Bakugo's room. He turned on the light and started picking up things he had scarred on the floor.

After he picked up a shirt, you took your chance to sit on the marron carpet underneath your feet.

"There's a chair behind you," he said side eyeing you from his spot in front of his bed.

"I need to reconnect with the earth." You tried to joke around, but he didn't even return his gaze at you.

After he folded his clothes and rearranged his closet for what it felt an eternity, he took a seat in front of you on the floor, his back against his bed.

At that point, for you, even if the alcohol was gone, the silence was unbearable.

"Fine, you want me to say it, I'll say it," you sighed. "What you saw is not what you think"

"I didn't know you were a mind reader. Tell me what I think"

The scowl on his face grew deeper by the second. If he wanted to pretend that he wasn't bothered, he was doing an awful job.

"It started as a date. He asked me out before...you know and I said yes and-"

"Why didn't you say no after we went together?"

You knew it was the booze talking. He had a couple of glasses back in the bar, and you were absolutely, one hundred percent sure, that he wouldn't say the things that he was saying fully sober.

"I didn't want to be that kind of person." You shook your head at the sound of your words. You didn't want to be someone who stood up another, but you were willing to be the kind of person to ignore your own feelings.

Bakugo was silent in front of you. He was realizing that he had no right to be mad at you because he still hasn't made the courage to confess properly at you. You were walking on eggshells disguised as assumptions.

"Just so you know, he saw our photos and he wanted to bail the date too"

You played with your fingers, waiting for an answer or some sort of reactions. Your eyes were stuck on the movement between both of your hands that you didn't notice when Bakugo smiled sufficiently.

"Tsk," he called your attention. "The balls of that poor little bastard shrinked because he saw you with me? Pathetic"

You said those words before because you thought that it would mend what was broken. You didn't think it would inflate something that was already full. His own ego.

"I can't stand you," you said, rolling your eyes at him while he smirked across of you.

That cocky bastard. He was the only one who could possibly turn an excuse into something about him.

"Says the one who went out with another guy after almost kissed me," he blurted with a plastered smile on his face. Oh, now he was enjoying it.

"I didn't kiss you." You crossed your arms over your chest and launched your boobs up. Bakugo felt the drool pooling on his mouth.

"That's why I said almost"

The tension was palpable. He had to move from his spot to rearrange his clothes without you noticing. Change of position with a very subtle movement on his Jean's sipper.

"For what I recall, you were the one who tried to kiss me"

You were oblivious to his acts. Lookin straight to his eyes because for one reason or another, the staring contest was on, and you weren't ready to lose.

"It was mutual," he answered, pointing at you from his seat. "I think we should try again, just to see if it was worth it"

He looked at you. Your physical language changed a lot since you two entered his room. You were gorgeous playing dumb when he could see through you and notice that you were almost as horny as him.

"Shut up," you exclaimed. "You ruined my fucking date you don't deserve shit"

"Uh, we are using bad words. It seems like it really got twisted in your panties"

"The only thing twisted in my panties is you"

You noticed about your mistake right after you blurted the words out. The change in the atmosphere had you gasping for stolen air. There wasn't any chance that he would let your mistake die.

"I wish," he said. His tone was completely even. "Just so you know, I like you in jeans, but I prefer you in skirts, I like your legs," he tried to dissipate the tension, but it did exactly the opposite.

"Oh now we're talking bodies?" You quirked your brow at him, and he scoffed.

'If we are talking body..." he raised his arms in defense just to add "l like your boobs"

"I like your hands." You followed his game.

"You have a great ass"

"I really enjoy watching your back and when you flex your arms"

"You do have nice hips, and don't get me started about your lips"

The intensity of his eyes on you were making havocs on your body. You were visibly flushed because of his words, and apparently, you had any will to stop.

"I lied when I said your dick was small.' You licked your lips. He found it the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

"Yeah?"

Only a mumble.

"Yeah, and I lied when I said I never wanted to see it again"

He was looking at you across the room with such an intensity that you didn't realize that you were launching yourself to him until you were straddling him. His hands were quick enough to grab your ass and to reposition your body against his, your core hitting his growing bulge.

His eyes were half lidded, looking up at you. You sunk a little on him to be at the same height. Crimson eyes right in front of you. Full of lust, desire, and just for him to know, a little bit of love.

"Are you going to give me my kiss?" He whispered right above your lips. "Or do I have to do it myself?"

The tone of his voice did something inside of you. It was like electricity running through your system. Forget the alcohol and the adrenaline of being in a battle, this was ten times better.

"I'm starting to think that the only thing you do is talk," you gasped.

His lips tightened closer yours in what it felt like a smile. His upper lip was touching yours, a faint caress spoiling you on what was about to happen.

Instead of the mutual belief, you were the one who connected your lips. The kiss was hungry, adamant, like you were chasing something you couldn't fully reach.

His tongue swept your lips, gaining its entrance to your mouth. Both tongues collided in a war that left you completely breathless.

His hands were groping your ass and swaying your hips to generate some sort of friction on your lower parts. You were definitely turned on by that.

Looking for some air to get inside your lungs, you backed off a little. A tiny string of saliva connecting the two of you leaving trace of what happened.

"Can this get any more messy?" You said, steadying your breathing.

Your hands were fisting his shirt, trying to find some balance between your chest going up and down and your aching core.

"Let's find out." he wasn't drunk because of the whisky anymore, he was drunk because of you. Your smell, your taste, he wanted more.

"I don't want to get fucked on the floor, I'm not eighteen anymore" you said avoiding the embarrassment of being so vocal.

The first time you did what you were about to do, you weren't sure about your decisions, and your senses were lacking direction. Now, the scene was different. You wanted him more than ever.

"Noted," he grabbed you firmly by the back of your thighs and walked you to the bed like if standing up with lifting a body was as easy as lifting a feather.

"I want to be on top," you said when he started to put you under him.

The sudden request caught him by surprise. A good surprise. He couldn't contain the excitement showing on his face.

"Oh, don't let that get over your head, please," you rolled your eyes at him.

"How can I not?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Your wishes are my commands, princess"

He was quick to put you in the same position you two were on the floor. He kissed you this time. Sloppy and slowly. Your hands went up to touch the nape of his neck while his hands grabbed the underside of your breast.

The kissing escalated fast enough that you didn't realize when he was kissing and marking your neck while grabbing your full breast with his left hand.

You wanted to press your tighs together and get rid of your jeans and his. You needed skin to skin contact.

Taking the upper hand on the undressing matter, you latched your neck off his lips and took away your top, leaving your boob in display for him to see.

Bakugo's mouth watered at the sight of them. The first time he had you, he had you underneath him with the lights off. Now he was watching at your body flushed against him right in front of his eyes.

"Shit" he muttered.

"What?" You asked, grabbing his shirt too and urging him take it off. He did.

"Nothing, you are gorgeous, that's all" he said nonchalantly.

You whined and smacked his arm.

"You're gorgeous, that's all," you mimicked him. "You said that like it was nothing, I am fully naked for you, and that's what I get? The only thing you missed was shrugging your shoulders"

He cackled at your dramatic antics and denied it several times before grabbing your lips between his.

"You are more than gorgeous," he muttered against your lips.

"That's better." You smiled and continued kissing him.

It didn't last long before his mouth was over your breast, taking your nipple between his teeth prolonging the ache in your body, you moaned, and he shivered.

The clothes disappeared quickly after that. You were sitting on top of his dick that was hard on your warm core.

He stretched his arm to find something in the drawer. You stopped him mid motion.

"It's fine, we are fine," you said, your fingerpads touching his huge bicep.

"You sure?" He was calm, but on the inside, he was buzzing to the mere chance of taking you raw again. This time fully conscious.

"Yeah, I mean only if you are fine with it, too," you said, and he turned it as a sign to align himself towards your entrance, pushing the tip inside of you. "Shit"

"You okay?" He asked, slowing a bit. You nodded, grabbing his arms that were firmly pressed at your side. "I have to tell you something"

"Yeah, sure, kill the moment"

"Dumbass," he rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smirk. Damn you loved that side of him. "What you heard about me, about my extremely and overwhelming ginormous experiences with girls? Half of them aren't true"

That was something you didn't see coming. You were expecting something less relevant like he was those types of guys who didn't last long.

"What?" You said stopping his sinking a little.

"Yeah, I let the rumors spread because I didn't care about what they said about me. I cared about my friends and no one else, about what they think, I mean " he said, caressing your hair and intertwining his fingers in your locks. "That was until you appeared claiming I had aids or something"

"Don't remind me, please," you tried to cover yourself, but he didn't let you. He wanted you fully exposed at him.

"And just so you know, you are actually the third girl in my life," he said with a playful smile on his face.

"Oh, don't make me feel too special," you joked back at him. "I don't care about what they say either," you mumbled, taking advantage of his state and giving him a slow peck.

The process of not caring about what people said was hard for you. All of this started because you were afraid of being in everyone's mouth because of the naked man in front of you. You didn't care about his body count or about the rumors. You cared about the moment.

After the conversation, he remembered what he was doing before the chat. He sank his member in you, not breaking eye contact in any second. He wanted to see your face, how your brows knitted together, and how your mouth slightly opened.

"Fuck" you said. "I didn't remember it was this big"

That was a boost for his ego and gas to the pedal for him to keep moving. When his dick was situated inside you, Bakugo had to take all his strength to not nut in you.

"Are you ready to-

You interrupted his words with your motions. You started bouncing on his cock the minute you found it comfortable enough. Your knees were deep on his bed, steadying yourself to lift yourself up only to sink down.

"Fuck, princess" he mumbled in the crook of your neck. He started bitting right after that with you moving up and down his member.

You picked up speed, your clit finding the friction it needed to build up the intense wave that threatened to bust.

"You're doing it so good," he purred under your ear, his right hand on your hip moving you and his left hand squeezing your breast. You wished you could talk but the only thing that came out of your mouth were whines and moans.

"Let me hear you," he demanded. His voice gruff and strained.

The same ball of pleasure that you were building on the inside, he was containing it to not spill. He wanted to get you off first, and you weren't so far of his goal.

"Does that feel good?" he said, and you moaned in return. He was moving exactly in the way you wanted it, hitting the spongy spot inside of you that had you curling your toes because of the pleasure. "Use your words, princess"

"Yes," you breathlessly moaned. "Yes, Katsuki, keep going"

The sudden use of his first name got him grabbing you tightly than before. His steady pace evolved in something fast and uncoordinated that had you clenching around him.

"Katsuki, I'm about to -" You moaned through your orgasm, your nails marking his back, and his hands firmly groped at your ass joining your bodies at the point that there wasn't a breeze that could pass through you two.

He spilled his seeds right after you, grunting and going rigid against your arms. You were a sweating mess, and he was, too. Beads of sweat coating at his hairline.

Katsuki watched you trying to calm your breathing while your body still trembled because of the powerful orgasm you two shared.

You sighed in defeat. You were beat.

"Let me take a sip of water, and I'm ready for round two" you whispered.

He laughed against your forehead and left a kiss on it.

"Next time I'll eat you up," he grunted.

You were beat, but not that beat to waste the opportunity.

Katsuki cursed himself on his mind. There wasn't anything to hide anymore. He was genuinely catching feeling for your ass.

(Not proofread yet)

When I said before monday I meant monday, giggles.

End note: Ok, but blame the jackass of my ex-boyfriend for this big fat delay! He's the worst anyway, here it is and babies I have to say that this is getting to an end...there's like one more chapter left :( the great news is that I'm working on something to don't leave you like castaways because I really love your reactions and comments.

A penny for your thoughts about this (not really but express yourself)

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[octoberautumnbox]

Orange-Tinted Sunset

Kiss of Life Belle & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mentions of alcohol n bein drunk, technically not cheating but also sorta close enough idk u be the :jujj:

Word count: 2.6k

a/n: another prompt fic! based on kiof's Nothing i swear im on hiatus lmao but here it is! thanks to @mintwithchoco for prompt and hosting! as well as @sinswithpleasure for beta and @0cta9on for saying i was good at everything so i crode strove to prove em wrong lmao

~~~

The nightclub spun around you, the alcohol clouding your thinking and doubling your vision. A strange feeling set in–you really were a guppy in a small pond. Whatever roaring applause you got from the crowd after that impromptu karaoke bout was nothing compared to the girl that came next. You can’t even work up the energy to be mad; her voice is the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard, flowing through the air and filling up every silence in the world, and it doesn’t help one bit that everyone else thought so too.

Her name, just her name. You wouldn't mind going home with nothing to show for the whole weekend as long as you knew what she was called–you have to know. Against every single ounce of common sense you have left, you walk up to her, calling in every favor from the universe you’ve saved up until this point. “H-hey,” you stumble, clearly more nervous than you should be. 

She turns around, and as her hair settles onto her back, she replies, “Oh, hi. Can I help you?” Her smile lights up your world, and you gain confidence and lose it again just as quickly. She’s gorgeous too, and how could you live with yourself if you fucked up with a girl like this again? 

And you realize you’re staring. “Hi,” you start again, “sorry, I, uhh, you killed it up there. Best I've heard in a while.” Pardon yourself for the understatement; she was exceptional. Stop yourself from saying more; she’s probably already heard everything you want to tell her. 

All she does is giggle in response, and you swear you’re face-to-face with a goddess. You slip, so just fall deeper and remember to blame the alcohol later on, “I mean it. You’re like nothing I’ve heard before. Can I ask for your name?” 

Her face sours almost imperceptibly, but your nerves don’t let you miss it. She holds back a grimace, but ultimately, she replies, “It’s Belle. Sorry, is that all? I have to go soon.” She shifts in her chair, no doubt trying to escape the situation, and it dawns on you you might look worse than you feel. 

“Y-yeah, that’s all. I actually wanted to buy you a drink, maybe. One musician to another. You were amazing.” Your voice holds together for the most part, but it doesn’t change her demeanor. 

“Thank you, it’s just…” she hesitates, breathing deep, “whatever this is, I don’t want to get involved. You’re nice, but I just… I can’t handle anything else right now.” The discomfort leaves her features as a quiet sadness replaces it. You’re no expert, but even a dunce like you could tell she was tired more than anything else. 

“No worries, I respect it. I’ll leave you alone.” It’s strange how you feel the lightheadedness drifting away and your senses coming back, almost like you’ve saved up quite a bit of good karma to ground yourself like this. Debatable, but you still have enough sense in you to offer, “Here’s my number, no hard feelings if you throw it away. I at least wanna buy you some nachos tonight as thanks for that gorgeous song. Good night, Belle,” before paying for them and ultimately heading for the door, above all trying in vain to forget about her. 

~~~

It’s familiar in two ways, being hungover at noon, sitting in a restaurant too fancy for what you’d ever typically be found dead in. On one hand, it reminds you of one of the best days of your life–your beloved sat across from you in a simple floral sundress while you shared a brunch of French toast and orange juice. 

“Thanks for coming out,” Belle said in a tiny voice, “I'm sorry about last night. I want to get to know you better.” She offers you a pancake, and once you accept she deposits it onto your plate, followed by a just-right helping of maple syrup. 

You try to avoid sounding humble, but there’s no other way to put it. “There's not much to know, really. I just came here on a whim. Needed to get away from it all, broaden my horizons. Us singers just gotta, you know? If I didn't, I'd never have found you.” 

“I hear you. I'm here to take a step back too. Things became too much to handle recently,” she relates as she takes careful bites of her cereal. For the first time since last night, you see each other's eyes, and a kindred spirit in you pulls on your heartstrings. It's an unspoken pain that's anything but obvious, and yet you see it in each other as clear as day. 

“Fucking exes, right?” the pair of you say in unison. A hearty laugh escapes both of you, and afterwards the pancakes slide down a bit easier. 

Belle calms herself first, “So you get how I was last night. I'm sorry, none of it was your fault.” You offer her a napkin and pour her another cup of ginseng tea, which she sips with an ethereal sort of grace once she finishes talking.

“Of course. I'm sorry too,” you sigh, picking at your scrambled eggs, “but at least we're recovering. I'm actually itching to write a new song once my hangover clears.”

“Me too, it’s just so freeing to let my feelings out onto songs. Plus all it costs is a pen and paper–much cheaper than therapy,” she agrees.

On the other hand…

~~~

“Blue palm trees?” she giggles. “What does that mean?”

The waves lap idly at your feet, scattering sand over your toes and hers. The calming ocean breeze washes over the both of you and weakly ruffles the paper she easily holds.

“It's called a hook, Belle. It captures the audience's attention, you should know this shit” you jab, drawing out more of her laughter. “Just let me be, okay? I'm the one with the pencil.”

She settles again, “Okay, okay, fine,” and sits back up straight. Another wave washes the sand away from the tops of your feet, dragging them back to the depths of the sea. In a split-second of feeling the grains slide off your skin and away with the water, you feel deep inside that maybe it'll be easier to walk again. 

“You know,” she starts gently, “this isn't too bad. I came here determined to grow stronger, but I don't feel any different–just more of what I was before. And weirdly…” Belle pauses, taking a short glance at you, meeting your eyes.

You can't help it; she's just that beautiful. The orange-tinted sunset behind her offers her a halo of warmth and sincerity, and it captivates your whole being to be able to spend a moment like this again, when the world is just right, especially with her. The waterline reaches up to your soles once more, tickling the both of you and sprinkling new grains between your toes before drawing back and taking the old away. 

“... Weirdly,” you continue for her, “I'm okay with that.” Your eyes never leave hers, and she stays, too. It takes a moment of serenity for you to finally let yourself think that this might be something more, that maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world to stay with a girl like her. 

It takes a moment of serenity for you, but it seems like forever in an instant. Memories rush back like the ocean soaks the shoreline, swapping old sand with new, but you could never, can never, tell the difference. It's the same grains washing your feet, slipping between your toes, embedding themselves in your life so well that random moments like this bring you to the past when you least expect it. It reminds you of a history you'd give anything to forget: walking on a beach like this with a girl you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with–to an extent, you still do. How could you fuck up with a girl like that?

~~~

It's the worst gamble the both of you could take, and deep inside you knew there was no winning this. You felt it in your bones, from the beach to the elevator up until before you burst through her door with her, but the feeling is gone now, and for sure it’s gone for her too.  

“Mmm, just like that,” she whispers straight into your ear. You swear you’ve never tasted anything as sweet as the sweat on her neck, so much so that you never want your lips to leave her. She pulls you closer as if she could, maybe only decreasingly aware that her back was up against the wall and that even grains of sand couldn’t breathe in the space between you two. 

It takes no time at all, and you find yourself laid back and vulnerable on her mattress. Belle towers over you, straddling to keep you in place, as if you’d go anywhere. In a flash her shirt leaves her, then her shorts, and finally her underwear haphazardly thrown to the floor. Your own clothes follow even less ceremoniously, letting nothing get in the way of the woman of your dreams. 

“Fuck, that’s good…” she says as she lowers herself onto your length. You relish in the feeling of sliding into her, pushing her walls apart all the while lewd confessions spill from her lips. Your hands find her hips and you grip her tight, guiding her up and down as she bounces on your cock, “You’re so fucking tight, Belle…” while she places her hands on your chest to support herself as she takes you inside her over and over again, “I can’t get enough of you… I need you so bad…” losing yourself in her love. 

It’s the simplest thing to grab her wrists like this, to throw her onto the bed and fuck her yourself. She hits the mattress with a quiet thud, and without even a moment of respite you force everything into her again. 

“Gnnhhh, shit, it’s so good, you’re so good…” she gasps and grunts with every thrust like it knocks the air out of her each time. The bed creaks under the two of you: she tries to pull you close again, so you indulge her and meet her where she is to kiss. Amidst your tongues dancing in each other’s mouths, she moans like her life depends on it, “Yes, yes, oh my god, yes–” 

It’s the easiest thing to get lost in a girl like her. She’s perfect in every way you can think of–a smile to die for, a heart to protect, a body to worship. Each moment you bottom out in her, a spark goes off between your lips and hers, and it only pulls you in deeper, pulls you away farther from where you are. There’s nothing else to think about when you’re with a girl like this except her name and the way her body feels on yours. It’s so dreadfully incessant, unceasing in your head, that you thank your lucky stars you’re able to hold back most of your moans: Yuna, Yuna, Yuna, “Yuna…”

~~~

The sun blazes through the window and straight onto your eyelids, jolting you awake. The bed creaks as you bounce slightly on the mattress, your mind rushing to find your bearings, when right beside you, Belle stirs but then promptly falls back asleep. 

A grave sense of guilt overtakes you, clawing from the pit of your stomach all the way up to the back of your throat. There's nothing to say to her, nothing to do, and you know it. How could you fuck up with a girl like this? 

Your phone's alarm rings on a far-off table. Rush over to it, careful but quick so Belle doesn't wake. You knock over an ottoman in the process, but you're able to turn it off in time. Then it hits you: your flight leaves in a couple hours. There's no more time to think–gather your clothes and rush back to your own hotel. 

“Hour and a half,” you think, “more than enough time to repack and go.” Your door crashes open and you heave your suitcase onto the bed, haphazardly throwing everything you own back into it. The zipper disagrees with you for a moment until you finally bend it to your will, albeit threatening its life in the process.

The cabbie drives as fast as he can legally go for you, apparently already knowing the protocol, and people and buildings whizz past in a giant blur. He drops you off soon enough, and with only minutes to spare and the gate calling you over the intercom, you board your plane. The cold of the seat comforts you and calms your nerves, and once the hurried energy leaves your body, all that's left is fatigue that demands to be addressed. 

You scarcely notice the window beside you beyond pulling it shut. The cushions aren't as comfy as your bedding from the night before, but you can't attempt to complain in a state like this. You don't even feel your train of thought slipping away…

~~~

You’ve put it off long enough, the anxiety rending the lining of your stomach. In between your own calls and texts to Yuna you find yourself on the receiving end of the restlessness of your endlessly repeating ringtone and text notifications. You wait another few seconds to make sure she’s done, even tossing your phone onto your old bed to fetch a glass of water, before picking it back up and seeing the same number of messages. It's time. 

hey, where'd you go? Belle, 8:46 AM

it's a nice song, I'll send it over in a bit. call me? Belle, 8:50 AM

I'm at the restaurant again lol come on over Belle, 9:02 AM

you're really gonna make me miss you huh? hahaha Belle, 9:33 AM

*2 missed calls*

this isn't funny. pick up Belle, 10:14 AM

*2 missed calls*

you're serious? so last night was nothing to you? Belle, 11:15 AM

*1 missed call*

wow, what a fucking piece of shit you are Belle, 11:17 AM

*4 missed calls*

is it something i said?  Belle, 2:46 PM

let's just talk Belle, 3:30 PM

*2 missed calls*

just tell me what I did wrong please, I told you I can't handle this Belle, 3:37 PM

*8 missed calls*

don't do this to me Belle, 5:47 PM

*1 missed call*

fine asshole i don’t need you and fuck your song. Belle, 7:15 PM

don’t ever call me. Belle, 8:40 PM

The screen dims under your command. Your phone flies off into the folds of your bed once more, granting you your last moment of control. Belle finally stopped, and Yuna never made herself heard. At least one of you moved on.

You stand in your cold, empty bedroom, in the same dingy apartment you tried leaving behind. The same torn-up pages are scattered across the floor, the same stains on the carpet are there to step around, the same picture framed flipped down to hide the old photograph inside like grains of sand getting swept back up to you no matter how hard you try washing them away.

“It's another bottle tonight,” you decide in no time at all. Pull a cold one from the fridge, ignore the other bottles strewn across the room, take a seat at your desk. The lamp buzzes to life, and another sheet finds itself under your pen. 

They never meet. 

~~~

[luveline]

Hey Jade!

I can’t remember if you’ve already written this or not but if not, could you please write bombshell!reader finally joining the BAU? I wanna know how Spencer and everyone else reacted to her finally joining

Thanks lovely :) hope you’re doing well

ty for requesting 💌 fem, 1.3k

The trek from the SCU to the BAU is familiar. If you aren’t being asked to consult, or occasionally brought along on sex crime specific cases, you’ll make any excuse to get there. A broken laptop, an updated reading list, a good cup of coffee. Spencer Reid always provides. 

He just doesn’t get it. You think about it every time you see him, but he can’t understand how nice, kind, and pretty he really is, or he wouldn’t be so shy, and he wouldn’t act surprised to have you seeking him out. 

He’s sitting now behind his desk with a hand over his mouth. You can tell he’s smiling despite it, a warm light to his brown eyes as you approach. 

“Hello,” you say. 

“Hi.” He sniffs, curling his hand into a fist under his nose. His smile is a thousand times more obvious as he tries to hide. “You okay?” 

“Hotch asked me to come. You don’t know what it’s for?” 

His smile finally softens before fading to a more neutral expression. “I have no idea.” 

You wipe your hands down over your hips. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, and not at all like last time.” Hotch has never been angry with you before. It was strange. “I hope he still likes me.” 

“What are you talking about? Of course he does.” 

“What am I talking about?” You agree. “Kiss for luck?” 

“Pucker up,” Morgan says, a coffee cup in hand. Without coffee you’re sure this office would cease to function. 

You shoot him a smile, Spencer a promising look to return, and start up the stairs to the office. You watch your shoes on each step, their shiny black, and you try not to be nervous, but Spencer was acting strange and Hotch has enough reason to revisit his anger. 

Your best defence is a smile, you decide. If you act like nothing happened, you won’t get another rehashing of your mistakes. 

You knock his door. “Hotch? It’s me.” 

“Come in, please.” 

You turn the handle and feel the weight of the door against your elbow as you enter. Hotch sits behind his desk, as usual, but when you’re a few paces from the desk he stand up, which is unusual. 

“How are you?” he asks.

Your eyes widen against your will. “I’m fine. How are you, Hotch? How’s your sweet boy? Did he have fun at little league?” 

“Jack’s perfect. I’m good, I need to talk to you about something.” 

“I assumed.” You wait. Then, neck growing warm, “If it’s about last time, I'm still so sorry.” 

“I’m not going to get angry at you twice for a mistake. But no, that’s not what you’re here for.” 

He’s making you nervous. Is this a guessing game? You lean into your nerves and put your arms behind your back, grasping your wrist as you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side. “It’s not about Spencer, is it? I told you, he’s just a friend. A good friend. But I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise my chances.” 

“It’s about that.” 

You stand straighter. “I do like him,” you confess, which Hotch already knows. Everybody seems to know except for Spencer. It’s not like you’re in love with him, just you could be, maybe. “But I’m really not– I would never do anything–” You start again. “I want this job more than anything. I know I flirt and I make more jokes than I should, but I take the work seriously, I promise. You guys are the most impressive people I know and I might feel like you’re a friend to me, Hotch, but you have to know how much I admire you. I admire Spencer, and I’d never let my feelings impede my professional ability.” 

“Y/N, I’m not reprimanding you for anything.” 

You swallow awkwardly. “You’re not?” 

He raises his eyebrows and turns to his desk. There’s a packet waiting across his outgoings, which he picks up and gives to you. “I need you to fill these in, first and foremost.” 

He’s smiling. Why is he smiling? 

You peer inside cautiously. Chest suddenly aching, thinking, It isn’t what you want, don’t break your own heart, you pull out the very top sheet from inside. FBI letterhead greets you. 

Facilitation of department transfer for Y/N L/N from the Sexual Crimes Unit to the Behavioural Analysis Unit, as requested by Unit Chief Supervisory Special Agent A. Hotchner and approved by Unit Chief S. Peterson. 

You lay it on top of the envelope. All the papers whine under your tight hand. “You requested it?” you ask. 

“Months ago.” 

“And Sandy said yes.” 

“Strauss, finally. If you sign them today, Penelope’s promised to expedite your processing, whether that’s fair or not. Your desk is ready.” 

“Hotch,” you whisper, not without excitement, but sound hard to summon, “are you serious? You’re not messing with me?”

“You deserve it. You have for a long time.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. For five long seconds, you stand there, and you think about how hard you’ve worked and how badly you’ve wanted this, and how much faith everybody’s had in you the whole time. You’re so thankful. For Hotch, Morgan, and especially for Spencer Reid. 

“Don’t get upset,” Hotch says, taking your arm. He gives it a good squeeze. It’s so friendly and kind you consider jumping up to wrap your arms around him, but you restrain yourself. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, pressing the packet to your chest. 

“You’re welcome. I didn’t mind fighting for you.” 

“I need to go and tell Spencer.” 

“Spencer, your good friend.” 

Your laugh comes in fractures from a sudden deep breath. “My good friend,” you agree. “Hotch, thank you. Thank you, I’m gonna go tell Spencer. I’ll be right back.” 

“It’s fine. Just make sure you finish those forms before lunch.” 

You leave with some dignity. You close Hotch’s office door, and you walk to the balcony and look down at Spencer where he’s waiting for you. His hair falls against his neck, his head angled up, and he’s smiling so hard he must’ve already known what you were summoned into the office for. 

You rush down the stairs. He, in all his loveliness, stands in time to open his arms. “I can’t believe it,” you say, your laugh like a ring as you lean against him. He holds you tight and hugs right back, forcing you to bend under his weight. “Spencer.” 

He pulls away just as quickly. “Tell me,” he says. 

“I’m gonna be part of the BAU.” It’s so insane to finally say aloud. 

Spencer looks extremely, achingly happy for you, but his second hug still surprises you. Your nose ends up pressed to his hair, strands of it falling from behind his ear as his palm cups your shoulder. 

You close your eyes. Spencer laughs, his lips a hair's width from your cheek. 

Your excitement grows too much. You squirm away from him and wrap your hands around yourself, holding in a girlish, giggly squeal. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.” 

He takes your hand. You barely notice. “Why can’t you believe that? You’re amazing. You work hard and you didn’t give up.” 

Morgan returns from wherever he’s been with Emily and Garcia in tow. “There she is!” he says. 

It’s possibly the best round of hugs you’ve ever had in your life. The little congratulations cupcake they present you with is the sweetest you’ve ever tasted. Spencer puts a makeshift name tag on your desk and you don’t bother pretending your eyes haven’t filled with tears, but nobody cares or minds. 

[hottiesforhockey]

may the best brother win pt. 2 ⎜hughes brothers

pairings: quinn hughes x afab!reader ⎜luke hughes x afab!reader ⎜ jack hughes x afab!reader ⎜ genre: romance ⎜bachelorette-esque situations ⎜angst? ⎜friends - to - lovers warnings: awkwardness between reader and Jack⎜mentions of a bet / competition⎜friendly love-hate relationship ⎜luke being a cutie patootie ⎜luke's love language is very much physical touch ⎜ kissing with mild heavy petting ⎜jack's kind of an asshole in this one ⎜miscommunication ⎜ synopsis: you have been friends with the hughes brothers for years - but why does this summer feel so different? word count: 5.1k authors note:  this is luke's chapter - I've always seen things saying that luke is super sweet and shy but really playful with people he knows so I kinda went with that for this story - anyway I hope you all enjoy! (p.s. i will be posting chapter aesthetic pics at the bottom so you can get an idea of what I was picturing :) )

(unedited)

“You look like you’ve been kissed.” Lukes voice carries through your bedroom, as you stand in front of your vanity mirror, trying to braid your hair to avoid it getting stuck to you with sweat overnight. 

“Huh?” You question, turning around too quick to be casual to look at the long legged boy sprawling himself across your bed. 

“Your lips are a little swollen?” Luke continues, trying to play oblivious to the nerve he was hitting with his words. 

“Didn’t know you pay so much attention to my lips, Lukey.” You hiss back, turning back towards the mirror watching him in the reflection.  You stick your tongue out at him, a quirk of his lips brightening the atmosphere as he leans forwards, his elbows pressing into his thighs. 

“So how’d the date go? You both came back in a bit of a weird mood.” Luke notes, his eyes catching the small twitch of your jaw as you clench and unclench thinking of what to respond with, “Did something happen between you two?” He adds, goading you for a reaction. 

“The date was nice.” You say softly, finishing the second braid and tying it off with a hair band before turning around to face the intruder. “He’s very serious about this bet thought, so you better have something good planned.” Your snark surprises Luke as you walk around to the other side of the bed, slipping onto the mattress besides him. 

“He did kiss you didn’t he?” Luke’s smile is outrageously large as you cover your face with your hands, already feeling the tips of your ears burning. 

“Don’t say anything.” You snap, letting out a long groan into your hands as the tingle returns to your lips - the featherlight feeling of Jack’s lips still lingering. “It was spur of the moment, it didn’t really mean anything.” You admit - the memory of Jacks joking comment playing through your head on repeat. 

“Does Jack feel that way?” Luke asks, his question, making your turn your head in your hands, just peeking over at him from the corner of your eyes. 

“I mean he said and I quote ‘if I don’t win this competition, I’m gonna say it’s rigged’, so I don’t really think feelings were on his mind.” You say, trying to do your best Jack impression, your voice mockingly low as you recall his words. Luke winces as you sigh, leaning back against your headboard - the large puppy of a man turning on his side to face you. 

“I think you made him nervous, kitten.” Luke whispers. 

“If you ever call me kitten again, I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to you in a sandwich.” You snap, Luke immediately throwing his hands up in defence. 

“I’m just testing some out - give it time, pumpkin.” 

“Get the fuck out of my room.” 

“I’m kidding.” He laughs, his hands grabbing hold of your wrists as you try to shove him off the bed. “But I was being serious, Jack says stupid shit when he’s nervous or caught off guard.” 

“Are you saying kissing me somehow made him nervous?” You can’t help the way your head shakes as Luke nods his in agreement with what you’re saying. “There is no way, hot shot hockey star got nervous from kissing the girl he went bra shopping with when they were ten.” 

“It’s just a suspicion, so don’t take his stupid comments to heart.” Luke admits, dragging the covers which lay folded at the end of the bed over the two of your before settling down into the pillows. 

“What are you doing?” 

“My room is so far away.” He whines, patting the space next to him waiting for you to follow suit. “I’m not leaving so get comfortable.” Luke adds, his arms crossed against his chest, a triumphant smile on his face as you settle into your own pillows turning your back to face him. 

“Get a good nights rest cause we have a big day tomorrow.” Luke warns before rolling around in the bed till he finds a comfortable position. 

+

+

The sound of “eye of the tiger” blaring in your dark bedroom and the heavy arm over your waist is what makes you crack your eyes open - glancing around to confirm the you are still in fact in your own bedroom. You glance down at the arm around you in confusion, your eyebrows lifting in surprise at the sight of Luke’s fingers entwined with yours sitting comfortably against the comforter. “No wonder my hand is so sweaty.” You mumble

“Luke.” You groan, trying to get his hand to release yours so you can tug the covers up and over your head. 

“Shit, sorry.” He mumbles back, his eyes barely opened as his fingers release yours, rolling onto his back, slapping his hand around the mattress for his phone. “Eight AM sugar cookie, rise and shine.” His voice is crackling with sleep as his arm drops back to the mattress the alarm no longer singing the song of Rocky Balboa. 

“Sugar Cookie?” 

“I know, it’s just not right, is it?” He agrees, as he raises his hands to rub at his face before pulling himself into a sitting position. “We gotta get up though, can’t let date day go to waste.” You dare a glimpse over at the curly headed morning freak who is greeting you with a beaming grin, you can already see the energy buzzing under his skin. 

“Time for us to get our game faces on!” He grins, flicking your forehead gently. “The bet’s not gonna win itself.” 

You roll your eyes, sitting up and stretching. “This is ridiculous. I don’t even know why you’re this invested.” 

“You’re just mad cause Jacky made a boo boo.” Luke teases as he slides off the bed, walking over to your curtains to rip them open, unleashing the morning sun in your face.  “You don’t think I’m gonna let him just coast to victory, do you? He thinks he can just kiss you out of nowhere and then act like it’s nothing?” Luke’s voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it, and you catch a glimpse of his competitive streak.

“Pfft, not on my watch. I’m gonna make this the most fun you’ll ever have on a date.” He tries to keep his face serious as he adds, “You’re going to go on other dates and be like ‘god I wish this was even close to being as much fun as I had with devilishly handsome and oh so charming Luke Hughes’.” He mimics trying to raise his voice as high as it’ll go. 

“Actually scratch that - you’re not going to go on other date ever again cause you’ll be so enamoured by me.” He corrects, his smile as wide as it can get as you let out a bark of laughter. 

“Very funny - now get out and I’ll get ready for whatever you’re going to enamour me with.” 

“As you wish, m’lady.” He says as he makes his way to the door, pulling it open all the way, Jack stopping just outside the door, looking between you and Luke in surprise. “Oh and wear something comfy.” He adds, nodding hello to his older brother as he fiddles with the long messy curls falling in his face. 

“He has a lot of energy.” Jack notes, stepping forwards to lean against your doorframe. 

“He’s excited.” You say with a shrug, slipping out of the bed and adjusting your pyjama bottoms which had ridden up over the night. 

“Listen, I think we should talk.” 

“Can we do it later? I have a feeling if I’m not ready in fifteen minutes Luke is gonna drag me on this date in my pyjamas.” You joke risking a glimpse at Jack’s face, expecting there to be a light smile but met with a blank expression. 

“Yeah.” He says quickly, clearing his throat. “Yeah whatever time suits you.” Jack says snapping out of his daze as he shoots you a quick smile, clapping his hand against the door frame before walking the rest of the way down the hall to his bedroom - the sound of the door closing echoing through the house. 

You can’t help the shiver of nerves at Jack's sudden shift; maybe Luke was right. 

"Fifteen minutes, princess!” Luke’s voice rings from this bedroom down the hall, and you huff out a breath, rolling your eyes. Luke’s enthusiasm for this date was charming in its own right, and for now, you'd focus on that. 

You dress quickly, pulling on a white thin sweater and some muted green overalls with your favourite broken in and worn down white converses as you gather a small cross body bag with the essentials. 

“I’m coming.” You hiss and Luke stops outside your door, pointedly looking down at the watch on his wrist. You pull your hair into a ponytail, the loose pieces at the front unable to be contained by the hair tie. Luke has on a simple pair of black shorts, with a washed out blue concert tee - his hair freshly washed and dried, and also possibly brushed, which was rare for the younger brother. He sports his own white converse - quick to point out the unintentional matching. 

“We’d just make the cutest couple, wouldn’t we?” He sing songs to Quinn who slides a plate of freshly cut fruit over to you as you take a seat at the counter - thanking the oldest as you dig into the juicy red apple slices. 

“He’s got a lot of energy.” Quinn notes, the deja vu slapping your across the face. 

“He’s excited.” You agree the encounter mimicking your earlier run in with Jack. 

“So what’s your plan for today?” Quinn questions Luke, watching his younger brother shove gatorade bottles and packets of chips into a small backpack. 

“Why? Trying to keep your enemies close?” Luke chides, slinging the mini black bag over his shoulder - the item looking smaller then before against his broad back. “We may or may not be going to one of her favourite places.” Luke hints, your eyes lighting up as Quinn looks over to you in confusion. 

“There’s a fair nearby?” You question, Luke nodding his head as he grabs an apple from the fruit bowl taking a large bite from it. “Since when? How did I not know about this.” 

“Wait, didn’t your friends from u-mich invite you to hang out with them there?” Quinn questions, a teasing smirk on his face as a frown grows on yours. 

“So you’re using this date as an excuse to hang out with your friends?” You ask Luke, his head shaking quickly as he bends down his mouth just besides your ear. 

“No I’m using it as an excuse to show you off to my friends.” He corrects, a shit eating grin on his face as he ushers you off the bar stool and towards the front door. “We’ll see you later tonight.” He bid farewell to his older brother before slamming the door closed. 

“C’mon we have a one hour drive ahead of us.” Luke says, his hand reaching for yours for what would be the first time of many throughout your date. 

+

+

The one-hour drive feels like minutes, and before you know it, you’re pulling into the makeshift parking lot beside the fairgrounds. The scent of fried dough, popcorn, and fresh-cut grass wafts through the open window, instantly transporting you to childhood summers. The sound of laughter, carnival games, and the occasional squeal from the rides fills the air.

Luke parks the car and hops out, circling around to open your door before you can even unbuckle your seatbelt.

“What a gentleman,” you tease, stepping out and adjusting the strap of your crossbody bag.

“Only the best for my date,” Luke retorts with a wink, grabbing your hand again.

The fair is bustling with people, families with kids in tow, couples hand-in-hand, and groups of teenagers excitedly darting between rides. Luke leads you through the crowd, his fingers laced securely with yours, making sure you don’t get separated.

“Where to first?” he asks, stopping in the middle of the main walkway. His eyes gleam with excitement as he scans the colorful booths and towering rides.

“I don’t know... you’re the one who planned this, remember?” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

“Right, but it’s all about what you want,” he insists, gesturing dramatically to the array of options. “Games? Rides? Food? Name it.”Your eyes land on a giant Ferris wheel at the far end of the fairgrounds, its lights twinkling even in the daylight. 

“That,” you say, pointing to it. 

“The Ferris wheel? Starting strong, I like it.” Luke grins and starts leading you toward it, but not before pulling you to a halt at a booth along the way.

“Hold up,” he says, eyeing the rows of oversized stuffed animals dangling above a ring-toss game. “I’ve got to win you something first. It’s tradition.”

“Tradition?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup. No fair date is complete without a ridiculously large stuffed animal you have no idea where to put later,” he says with a smirk, handing a few bills to the booth operator.

Luke’s competitive streak comes out in full force as he lines up his shots, determination etched into his face. The first two tosses miss, and you try to hide your giggles behind your hand.

“Oh, laugh it up,” he says, narrowing his eyes playfully. “I’m just warming up.”

The third ring lands perfectly around the target, and Luke lets out a victorious shout, throwing his hands in the air. The booth operator hands him a stuffed bear almost as big as you are, and he turns to you with a proud grin.

“For you,” he declares, presenting it with a flourish.

You laugh as you take it, hugging the soft toy close. “This is so impractical, but thank you.”

“Impractical? No way. It’s the ultimate prize,” Luke insists, leaning down to whisper, “Besides, it’s my excuse to keep carrying stuff for you all day.”

“Smooth,” you say with a grin, letting him take the bear back as you head toward the Ferris wheel, your hand slipping into his again.

As you step into the Ferris wheel carriage, the world below begins to shrink, and the view stretches out for miles. Luke sits close beside you, his knee brushing against yours as the carriage rocks gently.

“Okay, you were right,” he says, looking out at the sprawling fairgrounds and the sun painting the horizon in shades of gold. “This was the perfect first stop.”

You glance over at him, catching the soft, thoughtful expression on his face. “You’re full of surprises, Hughes.”

The Ferris wheel slows to a stop at the very top, giving you a moment of stillness high above the fairgrounds which is becoming increasingly busy as time seems to pause. 

“Pretty great view, huh?” Luke says, his voice quieter now, almost reverent.

“Yeah,” you agree, though your eyes aren’t on the horizon. Instead, they linger on the way the rays of sunlight catch the edges of Luke’s face, softening his features.

He turns to catch you staring, and a slow, teasing grin spreads across his face. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” you say quickly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “I just—yeah, it’s a good view.”

Luke’s grin softens into something gentler as he leans back against the carriage, letting the quiet between you stretch comfortably. The Ferris wheel starts to move again, and he shifts closer, his arm brushing against yours.

By the time the two of you reach the ground the fair has hit peak chaos - hundreds of people filling the walkways, your new bear tight in one arm, Luke’s hand gripping your free hand as he leads the way through the crowds, his oversized frame making it easy for him to pull the two of you between the masses of people. 

“Alright, it’s time for the most important part of any fair experience: food,” he announces, his enthusiasm infectious.

“Let me guess—corn dogs and funnel cake?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Obviously,” Luke says, feigning offence. “But also, those giant turkey legs and deep-fried... well, anything.” You laugh, letting him pull you toward a stand where the smell of fried batter and powdered sugar makes your mouth water. Luke insists on ordering for both of you, and soon your hands are full of hot, sugary funnel cake and a comically oversized lemonade.

The two of you find a spot on a bench near the carousel, sharing bites of the funnel cake and laughing at the powdered sugar that inevitably ends up on your face—and his shirt.

“You’ve got some...” Luke gestures vaguely toward your chin. 

“Where?” you ask, swiping at your face with a napkin.

“Nope, you missed it,” he says, reaching out to brush the spot away with his thumb. The simple touch sends a warm flutter through your chest, and for a moment, the chaos of the fair fades into the background.

“Thanks,” you murmur, your eyes meeting his.

“Anytime,” he replies, his gaze lingering just a little longer than usual.

“So what happened to your friends? Are they not meeting you here?” You question, clearing your throat as the two of your break eye contact, your focus going back down to the funnel cake in front of you. Luke also clearing his throat as he pulls his hands off the table where they were resting to pull his phone out of his back pocket. 

“I’m not sure, they’re somewhere around here.” He says, tucking his phone back into his pocket, digging his fork into the remaining food in front of you taking a bite as you tilt your head in confusion. 

“I thought you wanted to see your friends?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing deeper as Luke lets out a long sigh. 

“I do.” He admits, whispering something inaudible under his breath, his eyes still turned towards the table. 

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch it.” You joke. 

“I said, I’d rather spend today with you.” He repeats himself, his shoulders sagging a little almost in relief as the words leave his mouth - his eyes finally lifting to yours as he leans back on the picnic bench. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” He questions your head nodding quickly. 

“I like spending time with you too, Luke.” You admit, smiling at the surprised grin that spreads on Luke’s face. 

“That’s good.” He says feigning nonchalance. 

“Yeah, you’re like my best guy friend.” You tease, watching Luke’s face drop a little, the infamous Hughes pout spreading across his lips. 

“Great, this is great.” He groans, running his hand down his face in despair. His head dropping against the table as you let out a snort of laughter, sliding out from your seat, making sure to grab the arm of your oversized bear before making your way over to his side. 

“I’m kidding, Luke.” You whisper, as you perch one knee on the bench besides him, leaning forwards to press a soft kiss against his cheek, jumping back as he flings himself from his hunched position. “Are we gonna continue this date or not?” You smile, as Luke nods his head, sliding out of his seat, and reaching his hand behind him as he waits for you to follow after him. His fingers squeezing yours tight as you slide your palm into his. 

Your day seems to fly by as the hot summer sun slowly descends in the sky, your arms now filled with your giant bear and a more modest sized unicorn that had taken Luke six attempts to win from the basketball game. “You’re looking a little tired.” Luke notes as you make your way down the significantly emptier main walkway. “Do you want to start heading home?” 

“I just need to use the bathroom.” You respond, pausing your steps as you catch sight of the bathroom sign, Luke quickly pulling the stuffed animals from your arms motioning for you to go ahead. 

“I’ll wait right here.” He says the sound of his voice being called hitting you as you walk into the restroom. You make quick work of your business after waiting in line for ten minutes, trying to push your way out of the bathroom without touching any of the admittedly dirty walls. 

Luke is exactly where you left him, talking animatedly with who you quickly realise must be the friends he had avoided meeting up with all day so he could spend the day with you. You take a few steps forwards before deciding to hover back a little bit, letting the friends catch up without the interruption of a stranger. Pulling your phone out of your bag to check the notifications you had ignored for most of the day. 

Jack 😈: let me know when you guys are heading home. 

Jack 😈: I hope you had a lot of fun on your date

Jack 😈: I’m sorry if I made things weird between us. 

Quinnifer 😇 : I think you broke my brother. 

“Hey, what are you doing over there?” Your head pops up at the sound of Luke’s voice, the sight of the group now turned towards you making your eyes bulge a little. 

“Just catching up on my messages.” You say quickly, awkwardly showing your phone to the group, hoping it was enough to dismiss the attention. You watch as Luke’s friends nod to you in acknowledgement before turning to talk to each other in hushed whispers, the words obviously pleasing Luke as his boyish grin lights up his face. 

His eyes make contact with yours, his head motioning for you to come over and join him, his hand reaching out towards you, making quick grabby motions similar to that of a toddler as he waits for you to take his hand. You feel his body relax as you slip your hand into his, his arm pulling you close to his side as his raises your joined hands to press a soft kiss to your knuckles, your heart speeding up to a hundred miles an hour as you glance up at him in surprise. 

“It was good seeing you guys, we need to do a lake trip soon.” Luke interjects, wrapping up to conversation efficiently as he quickly bids his friends farewell, making promises to hang out soon, as the two of you slowly wander away from the group of college students.  

As you settle into the car for the ride home, Luke glances over at you, his expression soft and a little shy. “So... was this a good first date?”

You smile, leaning your head against the window. “It was perfect.”Luke grins, reaching over to place his hand gently against your thigh, his hand remaining there for the whole trip home, his thumb rubbing soft circles against your skin. 

+

+

 Luke parks the car and turns off the engine. For a moment, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the air filled with a warm contentment that neither of you seems in a rush to break. His hand lingers on your thigh, the steady pressure a grounding reminder of his presence.

Finally, Luke looks over at you with a playful smirk. “You’re not going to make me walk you to your door like a proper gentleman, are you?”

You chuckle, undoing your seatbelt. “Well, you did just earn some serious points tonight. But sure, let’s see how gentlemanly you can be.”

He shakes his head, pretending to be exasperated, but he’s out of the car in an instant, jogging around to your side to open the door for you. He extends a hand with an exaggerated flourish. “M’lady.”

You take his hand, laughing as he helps you out of the car. The cool night air brushes against your skin, and you instinctively lean closer to him as you walk up to the door. His arm slips around your waist, holding you close as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

When you reach your doorstep, you turn to face him, surprised as he doesn’t slow down, opening the front door and ushering you inside. 

“Where are you going?” You ask, Luke turning back to look at you with a smirk. 

“This is the door, but not your door.” He responds, your brain catching up quickly as you close the front door softly before following him up the stairs until the two of you stop outside your bedroom door, your heart fluttering as you meet his gaze. His boyish grin is back, but there’s a hint of nervousness in his eyes now. He rubs the back of his neck, glancing down for a moment before looking at you again.

“So… I had a really good time today,” he says, his voice softer now, more vulnerable.

“Me too,” you reply, your voice matching his quiet tone. “Thank you for making it so special.”

He takes a small step closer, his free hand reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “I’m glad. I wanted it to be… I don’t know, just right.”

“It was,” you assure him, your heart racing as the space between you shrinks. Lukes hand slowly cupping the side of your face, searching for any signs of resistance before he leans down, pressing his lips firmly against yours, your own hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, as you lift to your tippy toes pulling yourself tight against him. 

His free hand raising to grab hold of your door handle, as he twists it open, slowly walking the two of you inside your bedroom, kicking the door closed with his foot. Both of Lukes hands are gentle against your jaw as you pull away from him, his eyes meeting yours as you chew on your bottom lip. 

“Is this too much?” He asks gently, his thumbs rubbing softly against your cheeks, his breathing heavy as he waits for you to respond. 

“Is this not kinda of crossing the line? I mean I know we didn’t set any rules for the competition but do you not feel weird that I’ve kissed you and your brother?” You explain, grimacing as you speak the situation out loud. 

“Do you want to kiss me?” Luke asks slowly, ignoring the rest of your statement, his eyes searching yours as you nod slowly - unable to miss the way Luke grins as he mumbles, “Then fuck the competition.” Luke doesn’t waste time in reconnecting your lips, his hands firm on your hips as he walks to two of you back towards your bed, perching himself on the edge. 

Luke’s lips leave yours for no more than ten seconds, ripping his shirt over his head as his hands tug your body onto his lap, your legs straddling him as he shoots you a quick grin, before leaning up to catch your lips again. Your body melts against him your hands rake up his arms, Luke letting out a small shiver as they tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

You’re both starved for each other, taking the time to melt your bodies together as Luke lies back on the mattress pulling you down with him, his fingers digging into the plush flesh of your thighs, before moving higher up your body. 

“Why’d you have to wear fucking overalls?” He grimaces as you sit back against his pelvis, your hands briefly bracing against his bare abdomen the muscles tensing under your touch before reaching up to undo the two buttons holding up the top of the overalls letting the top fall off your shoulders. Luke lets out a shaky breath as he reaches forwards griping the hem of your sweater waiting for your small nod before pulling it up and over your head. 

“I wasn’t really going for aesthetic when I got dressed this morning.” You admit, glancing down at the black sports bra with a frown, your overalls bunching at your hips as you glance down at Luke, still sprawled on your mattress glancing up at you with a sparkle in his eyes.  

“I’ve never been one for aesthetics.” He says quietly, his hands running up the skin on your sides, goosebumps blossoming on your skin as he pauses as the clasps on your sports bra, a knock sounding through the room. 

“Are you in there?” You just manage to catch as your head spins towards the door, the clear shadowing seeping under the door, Jack’s voice slicing through the tension in the room. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Luke growls, his hands sliding back down to your hips to hold you steady as he sits up from his spot on the mattress, his arms wrapping around your waist as your turn your head back to him in panic. Luke leans forwards, skin pressing against skin as he steals one, two, three more kisses before pushing himself off the mattress, your legs wrapped around his hips, Luke slowly letting you place your feet back to the ground. 

“Don’t panic.” Luke whispers, his forehead pressing to yours. “He probably just wants to talk to you about your date last night.” Luke reminds you, pressing one more sweet kiss to your nose before stepping away from you, picking your sweater up off the floor and handing it to you to put on. 

“I’ll come back later.” Luke reassures you, grabbing his own shirt off the floor before moving towards your bedroom door, pulling it open and sending his surprised older brother a glare. “Don’t say anything stupid.” Luke warns his brother before padding down the hallway to his own room. 

Jack glances over at you in surprise, his expression almost an exact mirror of this morning when Luke left your room. “I have a feeling I interrupted something.” Jack notes your arms crossing over your chest as you choose not to respond. 

“I just wanted to apologise for last night and thought that maybe the kiss made things weird between us but…” Jack pauses, glancing back in the direction his brother just went before looking back at you, his expression shifting from soft confusion to simmering anger, “Clearly the kiss wasn’t the problem.” 

“What are you saying, Jack?” 

“I’m just saying I thought maybe I crossed a line by kissing you but obviously that line doesn’t exist with you.” Jack reiterates, his words making you lift your eyebrows in surprise. 

“You were right, Jack. The kiss wasn’t the problem.” You begin, opening to your mouth to continue explaining but pausing as you watch Jack take a step backwards, his head nodding as he frowns. 

“No don’t bother - I understand now.” He says quickly, escaping down the hallway to his room slamming the door harshly the sounding ringing through the house. 

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (Practice safe sex), cream pie, slapping, chocking, squirting, use of daddy

Wc: 5.3K

Chapter 3: Guess we're both broken

Waking up the next morning, you tossed over to the otherside, noticing the sheets were cold. Peaking through sleep coated eyes you realize that Rafe is gone. Sitting Up you look around the room, his shirt and shorts gone as well. Not surprised that he was gone, a sinking feeling is in your chest, he used you. Once again you are left knowing that you shouldn’t have thought anything else. Should have known him being on his best behavior recently was just another ploy to sleep with you, knowing that he won. 

The rest of the day was spent moping around Tannyhill, grateful that you didn’t need to see him. Sarah being the only person you see when she stops by to get some of her things before running off again to stir up trouble. The day was so uneventful that you even decided to go to your parents cookout. Which turned out as awful as you expected it to go.

Reaching your childhood home you can see your neighbors scattered around the lawn. You notice your dad on the grill talking to one of the other dad, most likely talking about what rub or glaze he used this time. Walking around you greeted a few people who stopped you to ask how work is going. “That Cameron boy is causing you any trouble is he?” If only you knew, you thought. “No he’s not. They are all really respectful to me.” In hindsight it wasn’t a lie, they have been really nice making you feel welcomed. If the past two nights hadn’t happened you wouldn’t be so apprehensive to say it, but they did happen.

Everything seemed to be going well until you reached your mom. She was talking to some of her friends when she saw you walking their way. “Well if it isn’t my precious little angel. Hardly recognize you since we never see you.” She chuckles, trying to mask the insult with laughter. Taking a deep breath you give her a hug. “I know, I’m sorry. Been trying to visit but it’s been hectic.” Saying hi to the rest of the group was met with few words, some of them not replying at all. “How much work can it really be? The young one is practically an adult herself.” Your mom has a way of making everything you do seem insignificant or an inconvenience to her, your job being one of them. 

“You’d be surprised. Wheeze is a saint but she does give me a run for my money. I should go say hi to dad before he feels left out.” With that you walked off to greet your dad. The rest of the night was a never ending cycle of your parents making small jabs at you. Making you and the rest of the party uncomfortable every time they spoke. The cherry on the cake was when they pulled off to the side just as you were about to leave. “Sweetie, we need to ask you something and before you start getting mad you need to agree to hear us out.” Your dad says sitting on the couch looking at you, your mom next to him nodding along to his words. “Okay.”

“So you see we really need to fix up the house. You know how bad the AC is, you would have better luck keeping the fridge door open then that thing working.” Oh god you can already see where this is going, eyes rolling waiting for them to ask you for money. “Don’t roll your eyes at us, we are your parents.” Your mother scolded. “Anyway.” your dad continues. “We don’t have the money to get it fixed. The mortgage is barely even being covered as it is, we just need you to spot us some money. Just enough to get us going.” Taking a deep breath and cooling your nerves. “How much?” you ask.

“4,000.” Your eyes widen at the price, that's a whole month's worth of pay, let alone you don’t have that on you right now due to helping them out. “4,000? You need me to give you 4,000 dollars? By when?” The questions shootout at them. “Yes 4,000 and we need it now preferably.” So that’s why they invited you today, not because they miss you like they claim but because they need money. “I don’t have that kind of money on me or in my account.” “What do you mean you don’t have that money? What’s the point of working for some kooks if they don’t pay you well.” Your dad scoffs turning and looking at your mom. “What did I tell you? I told you she wouldn’t help us.”

This really can’t be happening right now. You have been working since you were 14 to contribute to the bills, every paycheck going straight into their hands. “I have been helping you. I’ve been helping you for the past six years with every bill in this house.” “We never asked you to do that.” Your mother rebuttals, taking another sip from the glass of wine in her hand. “Yes you have!.” you exclaim. “You are literally asking me for 4,000 dollars as we speak. Every time you ask me for money I hand it over without making a fuss, but this I can’t do. I have my own expenses, you know.”

“What expenses? All of a sudden you live in a fancy mansion and you’re too good to help out your parents.” Your dad’s words hurt you. You have tried to be their perfect daughter your whole life. The perfect grade, the scholarship, then declining the scholarship because they begged you not to go. Every life choice you’ve made has been to cater them and their wants. “Yes, dad, my expenses. I have my own car that I pay for by myself, a car loan as well, I even have to buy my own groceries. Then on top of that I send the both of you practically all of my paychecks. I’ve been scraping by trying to make it all work, why can’t the two of you just realize I can’t do this.” Your pleas fall onto deaf ears as they both get up from the couch. “If you aren’t willing to help us then there’s nothing left to talk about. You know where the door is.”

Watching as the walk away tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The drive back to Tannyhill seemed longer than it usually did. The conversation played on repeat throughout the whole drive. Parking your car you rush to the front door, all you want to do is lay in your bed and cry. Tears are already falling from your eyes as you close the front door. “Well what do we have here, country club? This that nanny you keep hiding from me?” You recognize the voice, you’ve seen and heard him around Tanny when Rose or Ward is gone. Barry is his name you think not really caring to find out you just walk down the hall. “Not much of a talker I see.”

“Leave her alone.” Rafe’s voice makes your ears perk up. Even though every muscle in your body is telling you to keep walking and not to look at him, you cave. Eyes meeting he can see the tears in them. “You okay, sunny?” You can’t do this right now, can’t get caught up in him just for him to leave once again. Without saying a word you brush past him, bounding up the stairs to the second floor. But before you can slam your bedroom door you can hear Barry talk. “The fuck you do to her?”

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The next morning you had yourself locked in your room just thinking. First about your parents and then about Rafe, then your parents and Rafe once again. It was torture having to sit in the room replaying ever interaction to see where things went wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you about the Rafe situation but it might for your parents. 

Looking at the clock by the bed you see that it's almost one in the afternoon. Deciding that you can’t sit her a mope for the rest of your life, you get up and get ready. Ward had given you a membership to the country club when you first started, he thought it would be better since you can accompany Wheezie when she goes. A nice relaxing day at the club, eating the fancy food is just what you needed.

It didn’t take long to get there or to find a seat by the pool, most of the people are on the golf course anyway. The only people by the pool are the wives that have kids and the teens who were there for the lifeguard. Stripping from clothes you are left in the red bikini you wore, you put on some sunscreen before laying down on the lounge chair soaking up the rays. 

The sun feels nice against your skin, the heat relaxing your tense muscles finally being given a break. After about thirty minutes you flip over allowing your back to tan, not wanting to be uneven. The sound of kids laughing and the busy club lull you into a peaceful mind. So what if your parents are upset? You have done more than enough to help them out over the years, you can’t keep digging them out of their messes. Who even knows where most of the money you send them goes, it’s definitely not toward the house.

So what if Rafe is a dick who just uses girls and dumps them to the side? You can’t control who he is and clearly he just wanted to hookup nothing more. All that you can do now is just keep to yourself, it’s better to protect your peace then being his new play thing. Then why does it hurt? Shaking off the thoughts you notice how hot you started to get. 

The sun is beating down on you, sweat forming on your skin causing you to stick to the chair. Getting up you head into the pool, the cold warmer cooling you off as you float. You didn’t know this but a few feet away on the dining patio sat Rafe with Topper and Kelce. Rafe was half listening while the two boys talked about something he didn’t care about. His mind kept bringing back the picture of your crying face from last night.

As soon as Barry left he went straight to your room but the door was locked. He sat there for a second and heard nothing from the otherside of the door, assuming you went to bed he left for his room. When he woke up this morning it was all that he could think of, seeing you like that hurt him. You looked like he did after his dad made him feel less of, the thought of you feeling like that made his blood boil. But showing you he cared shows that he needs you, that he actually cares for, that’s not who he is.

No Rafe is the type of guy that fucks everything in his life up, dropped out of school, is a failure to his dad and in relationships. That's what he’s good at, you’ll see it eventually so why even try? Looking out to the course, he can see the pool from here, looking at all the bodies laying around. The red swimsuit draws his eyes down your body, recognizing you as you walk out the pool. The water drips down your stomach, down your legs, but the droplet in between your breasts has him staring. 

Rafe isn’t the only one staring, the few teen boys are staring, then there’s the lifeguard. Rafe remembers him from school and doesn’t like the fact he’s staring at you. He watches as you dry yourself off, putting the shirt and shirt you wore back on. Looking as you gather your things and escape his view as you leave, the boys gather his attention. “Dude are you even listening?” His eyes move back to them “Yeah.” 

You make your way through the halls, carding through your memory to remember how to get to the dining. As you walk, members of the club look at you, judging you for the way your shirt has wet spots from your swimsuit and hair. You decide to sit at the bar not wanting to deal with anyone today. “How can I help you m’lady.” You put the menu down to meet JJ’s gaze. “Oh my god! Jayj hi.” You squeal, catching the attention of patrons including Rafe. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while. Joining the darkside has really changed you.” He looks around before leaning a bit closer. “How is it on the other side? Miss us already?” He teases. “Of course I miss all of you.” You playful push his shoulder, JJ raises his hands up in surrender before resting his body weight on the bar counter arms next to yours. Rafe stares in shock at the scene playing in front of him. You, his girl, flirting with fucking Maybank of all people.

He sees JJ push a piece of hair behind your hair and you giggle. The chair scraping against the floor alerted the boys, he didn’t even realize he was even up and walking over to the two of you. “Where are you going?” Kelce calls out to him. “I’ll be right back.” As he gets closer he can hear your conversation more clearly. “You should come to the bonfire this week. I’ll make it worth your time.” JJ flirts, Rafe coming up right behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking over your shoulder you can see the look of anger on his face and the smirk painted on JJ's face. 

“Sunny! I didn’t know you were going to be here. Maybank why don’t you run along and get me another drink.” He says with a condescending tone, glaring at the blonde boy. “Rafe.” You say as a warning, already seeing how this is going to end. “What? I’m just asking the help to do his job. Right Maybank?” “I was actually helping out this beautiful customer. Ain’t that right baby?” JJ remarks getting closer to you. The look on Rafe’s face could probably kill JJ if he tried hard enough.

Rafe leans against the counter, his body facing you. “You really slumming it around with this loser? You like being around trash?” His comment made you see red.  How fucking dare he? You knew he kinda took the kook and pogue thing seriously but to call them trash. It’s like he forgets that you are also a pogue, that if it wasn’t for his father you would still be living on the cut with the rest of them. Which is true, he doesn't see you as a pogue or the help. 

To him you’re a kook, you belong with them, with him. “Yes I do. Now this trash is going to take itself out like the “help” do.” You say quoting help as a reminder that you also are the help. “I’ll see you around Jayj.” You tell the blonde looking at you with worried eyes before storming off. “Yeah see ya.” He calls out looking at Rafe for a moment. “Man I knew you were dumb but god damn. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen you do.” He laughs and walks away to go serve other customers. Rafe knows he’s right, potentially just fucked up whatever the two of you had before it actually really started. More than he has already done by ignoring you for the past day and a half.

He makes his way back to the table, the guys watching as he takes out a wad of cash and throwing it on the table. “I gotta go.” He exclaims, rushing to try and catch you before you have the chance to fully leave. Racing out of the building he sees you in the distance looking for your car. Jogging he catches up to you grabbing your arm and yanking you back to him. “Let go of of me!” You yell at him turning and pushing his chest hard. “No! Come one just talk to me.” He exclaims fighting you to make you stay and hear him out. “Are you kidding me? Talk it out? You just insulted me and my friend.” “No I insulted him. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

You scoff pulling your arm free from his grip. “So calling him trash just because he’s a pogue doesn’t insult me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m also a pogue. I came from the cut just like he does. Does that shit actually really mean something to you? Are you that fucking stupid?” Rafe’s been called stupid many times in his life, from Ward, his sisters, hell even Rose has called him stupid. He knows that he makes things difficult and not many people like him. But hearing you call him stupid fills him with more rage then seeing Maybank think he can have his girl. “Hey don’t you fucking dare. Say whatever every the fuck you want but I ain’t stupid you fucking hear me.” 

He grips your cheeks, pinching them together. “Don’t you ever call be stupid again got it?” You should be scared, you’ve seen his temper before, seen him throw shit around the house or get into a fight with people at parties. You don’t know what to do being on the receiving end of his anger, then his words ring in your ear making you angry all over again. That ache in your pants is ignored as you wrench your head out of his hand. “I don’t know what your problem is but if you put your hands on me again you’ll regret it. You think just because everyone else is scared of you that I will be too? News flash buddy I’m not.” “Don’t call me buddy.” His voice was weaker than it was when he was yelling. 

“You don’t get it.” He states turning away from you and letting you go. “You’re right I don’t. You don’t talk to me for two days completely ignoring me after you got what you wanted. Then when I’m catching up with a friend you come in guns blazing as if the world is about to end. What’s wro-“ “He was touching and flirting with you.” He cuts off your rant, stunning you into silence. “So what if he was?” Rafe’s eyes darken hearing you defend him, telling him you actually enjoyed the attention that you were getting from another guy. “So what?” He laughs differently from his normal one, darker than what you are used to.

 “You really think I want some other guy touching you? Do you fuck him too?” “You’re jealous?” You meant it as a statement but it came out more like a question. “Yeah I’m jealous. All those guys in there would give up all their money just to get a chance with you. You don’t know them like I do, they would jump at the chance to get with a beautiful girl.” This is the third time he’s insinuated you are beautiful in some way. “Well maybe I should give them a shot. You obviously” His lips crash to yours, not allowing you to finish. This is different from the other kisses you’ve shared, more intense. He’s trying to tell you he’s scared of losing you, a crazy thought considering you aren’t even his.

How can he feel so strongly for you than he already did? It’s no secret that he’s always had a thing for you but this is different. The thought of you leaving him for another person actually terrifies him. Everyone has left him and he can’t stand the thought of you being another person who walks away. You try fighting him again but all efforts die when his tongue makes its way into your mouth. Rafe has this effect on you that you can’t explain.

There was always this soft spot for him but now that the lines have muddled together it’s hard to separate your feelings. Arms wrap around his shoulder pulling the two of you closer to each other, bodies pressed together. He pulls away from you for a second allowing the two of you to catch your breaths.  “Get in the car. I’ll meet you back at the house.” Fully pulling away you straighten out your clothes that got a little skewed from making out. He goes to walk to his truck, you stop him. “You can’t just get upset like that and make a scene. If this thing between us is going to work you have to talk to me, okay?” Eyes softening looking at your expression he takes a step forward placing a kiss on your forehead. “Okay.” With that he walks away leaving you standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering what the hell just happened.

The both of you race back to Tanny, Rafe’s truck behind your car. Reaching the house, you make your way inside waiting for him to get here, you lost him at a red light on the way over. You go to the kitchen to get water, the sound of the front door opens, Rafe’s footsteps echoing through the hall. “You think you can just go around and flirt with people?” He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, white polo stretching around his biceps. “I thought we talk-” “No I’m not done.” He enters the room, staring at your body with dark eyes. “Strip.”

The grip on the water bottle tightens. “What?” Rafe is now in front of you, taking the water from your hands, whipping the stray drop on your lips. His thumb gently pulls your bottom lip before releasing it. “Strip and get on your knees. I need to teach you a lesson, I don’t like people thinking they can have what’s mine.” You look at him before following the instructions, staring up at him as he unbuttons his pants to take his dick out.

“Open.” You do without a second thought. “Good girl.” He mumbles, forcing himself in and setting a brutal pace. You have to catch yourself on his thighs just so you don’t fall, his hand holding you in place. Hips thrusting into you, your throat gladly accepts the intrusion, gargling on his length. Tears pooling on your bottom lashes, spilling down your cheeks, making Rafe go harder on you. “Look at you. A mess of spit and tears for my cock. Think maybank can do this for you?”

He’s still on about what happened at the club, to tell the truth you were too. His jealousy causes mixed emotions in you. On one instance you like seeing how possessive he was for you, on the other he resorts to insults to get his way. You give him a rough suck, eyes meeting his. “Fuck.” Rafe pulls out, yanking you up and bending you over the kitchen island. His body covering yours as he lines himself up, you're so wet that you aren’t worried about the pain. You were sure that he would fit, no preparation needed. “Told you I would bend you over and fuck the shit out of you.”

With that he slammed into you, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He halts when he’s ball deep, giving you a moment to gather yourself, only a moment. His thrust pushes you further into the island, sure enough to leave marks on your hip tomorrow morning. You don’t even care, he feels too good, the feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. Whimpers keep leaving your mouth. Rafe grabs your arms, using them as leverage to fuck you harder as he keeps them pinned behind you back by one hand.

“Harder.” You moan out. Your body tingling from all the pleasure he’s giving you, your peak creeping around the corner embarrassingly fast. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to fuck her faster?” The degradation goes straight to your clit, walls fluttering around his length. He goes harder for a few minutes before pulling out, a whine of protest leaving you. “You don’t get to cum yet.” Rafe’s hot breath in your ear, his body heat leaving you too. 

He turns you around and hoists you onto the island, spreading your legs to step in between them. Left hand going to guide himself back into you, gliding across your fold to get you hip and bring you closer to the edge. In this angle he hits you deep, pushing against your cervix with each thrust.

Wrapping a hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly just enough to have your mind all fuzzy. You roll your eyes back grasping onto his bicep, manicured nails digging into his flesh leaving crest shaped marks. Rafe hisses at the sensation enjoying the flash of pain radiating in his arm. He starts fucking you hard, pounding into you having his dick spear into your g-spot. His unoccupied hand takes hold of your hair, pulling you till your foreheads are pressed together. His watch digging into the back of your neck, chested firmly pressed to each other, sharing each breath.

 “Squeezing my dick so fucking good baby. Can you hear how bad your pussy needs it?” Rafe moans out. You can, you’re so wet that every time he fucks into you squelching fills the room. You open your mouth but a particular thrust makes you moan instead. The hand in your hair retracts, your head leaning back slightly, it comes down on your cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt but enough to have pain heat your face. You moan liking the feeling of the smack, mostly just enjoying the fact that he lost himself to the point of causing a bit of pain. 

“You like me hitting you baby?” When you moan he smacks you again, annoyed that you won’t speak. “Use your words.” Rafe’s hand cupping your jaw staring at your fucked out expression, the hand around your neck tightens as his pace increases. You’re wetness mixing with his pre-cum leaking out of you, making a mess between you two. “I like it sir.” It comes out more like a breath but it counts. “My good little girl. You gonna cum for me? Hmm cum for daddy.” The new nickname was the nail in the coffin, the tightness in your belly finally snapping.

 This feeling was a new thought. It was so intense and it didn’t feel like an orgasim that you’ve had before. Your walls squeeze rage so tight that it pushes him out of you, your release gushing out getting everything wet. “Did you just fucking squirt?” Rafe pushes his dick back in, fucking you harder than before. “Such a dirty fucking slut, squirting and getting everything wet.” Moans keep getting pulled from you, pouring out into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you. “Oh fu-fuck… I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it.” “Inside please.” 

If telling him to cum inside you didn’t make him cum, it was the please that did it. Rafe ruts into you, hips stuttering as he fills you with each squirt of him cum. The warm feeling making you moan and flutter against him. He rides out both of your highs, hips finally stopping when they met yours, keeping you plugged. He want to stay there, wants to just feel you, wrapping his arms around your body. He’s enjoying knowing you are stuffed full of him, that his cum is so deep that it's forced out around him. Pulling out slowly you both hiss, you at the feeling of him spilling from you, and him as he’s fixated watching it come out. 

Kissing you for a moment, Rafe pulls away walking to the sink, wetting a rag before going back to clean you up. The touch is so gentle that it barely hurts. He helps you put your clothes back on dragging the both of you over to the living room. He throws himself down on the couch taking you along with him, pulling you closer . “What happened last night.” You hand playing with his shirt stops. “Huh?” Moving your head to his shoulder you look him in the eyes. “You were crying last night. What happened?” 

“Oh” Trying to shift away from him, being blocked by his arms tightening keeping you in place. “It was just some fight with my parents. It’s nothing.” “It is something, it made you cry.” You wish he would stop trying to pry, it’s not as if he cares. Honestly you expected him to flee once your clothes were back on. Pulling you to the couch was unexpected but asking you to talk about your parents was too much. Too personal. The lines of friendship and having feelings are already getting muddled as it is, this would just push it further. 

“Hey.” It’s soft, lips brushing my forehead before he places a kiss there. “You said we have to communicate, right? Talk to me.” With a sigh you tell him everything. How since you were barely able to work you gave them all your money last night. “They expected me to just hand over 4,000 dollars like it’s nothing. Then when I finally put my foot down I’m a disappointment. Nothing I do anymore is right.” Rafe’s hand rubs your arms trying to soothe you. 

“You aren’t a disappointment. If they can’t handle the fact you have your own life then fuck them.” You slap his chest lightly. “I’m serious. You’ve done more than enough for them, if they can’t see that then it’s their loss." A moment of silence, his words soaking in as you both lay there. “Thank you. I” You don’t know what else to say, fingers tracing shapes along his chest. 

“I know what you’re feeling. My dad um he always lets me know how much of a fuck up I am. I know what it’s like to be a disappointment, you don’t even come close.” The confession felt foreign on his tongue. Rafe never opened up to anyone about his feelings, anytime he tried he was met with a “man up” or “this is how a man handles things”, he’s scared of what you will say. He feels you slip from his arms, closing his eyes not wanting to see you leave him alone, trying to calm the burning behind his eyelids. 

“I don’t think you’re a failure.” Blue eye’s open to meet yours, there’s a hint of vulnerability from what you can see. You lean down pecking his lips, pulling away to get a better look of him. “You’re more than what he sees. It’s a shame he doesn’t take the time to notice.” It was your turn to leave him without words. He’s searching your eyes, your face, for any sign that you were lying. That you were pitying him after he devolved a hidden secret. He knows you’ve heard his Dad yell at him but this is different. 

He can put on a mask after talking to Ward when he has to see you. This time he tore the mask off, wanting you to see him without the facade. “I don’t think that about you.” “Huh?” You respond with confusion filling your face. “I don’t think that you’re trash. You are probably the best thing to come out of Outer Banks.” He’s not lying or at least you don’t think he is. The look in his eyes tells you that he actually means it so you smile down at him. “The best thing huh.” You tease. “Don’t push it.”