#I wish the jacket was real because it looks so cool

[jessesluvr]

heyyy can you write jesse just completely smitten pinning over reader? i dont have any specific scenario though

jesse scenarios about him falling in love with you

author's note : okay ! soo i know you didn't have a specific scenario so i was like, "oh this is absolutely perfect because i can just write multiple". anyways, i hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting ! jesse my lover boy, i wish you were real. ps. i had to make 10 longer for a reason.

word count : 1.6k

1. patrol partner perks

jesse leans against the stables, trying not to look too eager as your name is read off the next patrol list. when his own name gets paired with yours, he tries to act cool—just a little nod and a quiet "sounds good." but the second you look away, he's grinning like an idiot. he tells himself it’s just coincidence, that he’s “pulling his weight.” but deep down? he knows exactly what he's doing.

he loves the quiet moments most—those stretches of trail where your horse trots beside his and you're both just… there. breathing the same winter air, sharing dumb jokes, talking about nothing. when you laugh at something he says, even if it’s barely funny, he swears he feels it all the way in his chest. like he's twelve again and this is his first real crush.

jesse doesn’t say anything. not yet. it’s enough for now, just riding beside you, memorizing your voice in the snow-covered silence, pretending it’s all just part of the job.

__

2. her laugh

it’s a dumb joke—something about infected tripping over a rake—but you laugh anyway, that breathy, real kind of laugh that makes you squint your eyes and toss your head back. jesse forgets the punchline halfway through just watching you react to it. his heart skips a beat, and he doesn’t even try to hide his smile.

he thinks about that laugh too much. like, way too much. when he’s alone in his room, or when the lodge gets too quiet, he hears it in his head and swears it warms him more than the fireplace ever could. he tells dina about it once, offhandedly, and she just snorts and says, “god, you’ve got it bad.”

maybe he does. but can you blame him? the world’s pretty dark these days, and your laugh—your real, open, no-holding-back laugh—is the one sound he’d risk anything to keep hearing.

__

3. small favors

you mentioned it once, offhandedly, while trying to zip up your jacket: “stupid thing always gets stuck.” you didn’t think anything of it. jesse, on the other hand, made a mental note. the next morning, your jacket is hanging on the hook outside your door with a fixed zipper—and a second jacket folded beside it. a better one.

you step outside, holding the note he left: “figured you deserved a jacket that actually works. don’t freeze out there. -j” your chest tightens just a little. it’s small, simple, but the thought behind it runs deep. you don’t even remember telling him that. he listened.

jesse pretends he didn’t do anything big. just shrugs when you thank him, gives you a crooked smile, and says, “can’t have my patrol partner freezing to death, right?” but the way he watches your hands test the zipper—how he lingers just a second longer than necessary—you know it meant more than that.

__

4. watching her from across the room

jesse sips his drink slowly, leaning back against the bar wall as his eyes find you across the crowded room. you’re laughing with dina and ellie, half-lit by the soft yellow glow of the hanging lights. your head is tilted back, your hands moving as you talk. he couldn’t hear what you’re saying even if he wanted to. doesn’t matter. he’s memorizing you like it’s the last time he’ll get to see you like this.

he catches himself staring and quickly looks away, cheeks burning, like some kid in high school. he tries to focus on his drink, makes small talk with seth from the gate shift, but every couple of minutes, his eyes drift back to you like he doesn’t have a choice. you don’t even notice. or maybe you do, but you don’t say anything.

he wonders if you ever think about him the way he thinks about you. probably not. you’re so full of light, and he feels like he’s just orbiting it—close, but never close enough.

__

5. first aid excuse

you trip during a run—nothing serious, just a scrape on your hand. the kind that stings more than it bleeds. you're brushing it off when jesse sees it, his expression tightening instantly. "hold still," he says, pulling his bag around. "you should let the medic—" you start, but he cuts you off with a firm, “i’ve got it.”

he works with gentle fingers, more careful than he probably needs to be. the bandaid is crooked. the antiseptic stings. but it’s the way he’s looking at your hand—like it’s precious—that makes your throat tighten. he keeps glancing up at you, checking if you're okay, like that tiny wound meant the world.

jesse doesn't say why he insisted. doesn’t explain the slight tremble in his hands or the way his jaw clenches when he sees you flinch. but it’s written all over him: the fear of losing you, even to something small.

__

6. that moment of silence

you brush snow off his shoulder after a long, cold patrol. just a quick, casual gesture—barely even thinking about it. but jesse freezes. his breath catches mid-laugh, and you don’t notice at first because you’re already walking ahead. his heart’s thudding, fast and loud in his ears.

your hand had been warm through his coat. gentle. like it belonged there. it was such a small thing, but to jesse, it felt like the earth shifted. he stands there for a second longer, staring at your retreating form with that look on his face again. like he’s stuck between wonder and heartbreak.

he jogs to catch up, cracking a joke to break the tension. you smile. he grins back. but he can still feel where you touched him—and he doesn’t want to brush it off.

__

7. protective much?

you’re talking to some new guy at the bar, nothing flirty, just conversation. but jesse sees it from across the room and his stomach twists. he’s across the floor before he can stop himself, sliding in beside you with a hand on the back of your chair and a way-too-casual, “hey, didn’t know you were out tonight.”

the guy picks up on it immediately and drifts off after a minute. you raise an eyebrow at jesse. “everything okay?” “yeah,” he says, too quickly. “just… keeping an eye out.”

jesse doesn’t admit it, but he hates the idea of anyone else getting close to you. he knows it’s selfish. he knows he doesn’t have any right. but it doesn’t stop his heart from racing every time someone tries.

__

8. birthday

you didn’t tell anyone it was your birthday. didn’t think it mattered. but when you step outside your cabin that morning, there’s a little wooden wolf carved from pine sitting on your step, with a note: “don’t forget you matter. -j”

your breath catches. it’s small, worn, clearly hand-carved. you trace the lines of it with your thumb and suddenly the world feels a little less cold. jesse didn’t say anything in person. he didn’t make a big deal. but that quiet gift, that little reminder—it’s exactly what you needed.

you find him later and just hug him, no words. jesse tenses for a moment, surprised, then melts into it. he presses his chin lightly to the top of your head and doesn’t let go for a long time.

__

9. snowball war

you hit him square in the back with a snowball mid-patrol, grinning like a maniac. jesse turns around slowly, fake-offended. “oh, it’s on.”

what starts as one snowball turns into a full-on war. you’re both laughing, ducking behind trees, slipping on ice, shouting through the trees like you’re kids again. jesse loses a glove, gets snow down his back, but he doesn’t care. not when you’re smiling like that.

when he finally tackles you into the snow, pinning you playfully, his face hovers just inches from yours. and for a second, everything’s quiet. the laughter fades. just you and him, breathless in the snow. his heart hammers. he almost kisses you. almost.

__

10. confession

you’re both sitting near the fire after a close call—breathing hard, clothes torn, blood drying on your hands. neither of you speaks for a while, the silence stretching long and heavy, the kind that only follows real fear. jesse stares at the flames, jaw tight, eyes distant. you glance over, trying to read him, but he’s somewhere else. somewhere scared.

“you okay?” you ask softly.

he doesn’t look at you when he says it. “if you’d died back there, i don’t know what i would've done.”

you blink, caught off guard. “jesse…”

“no,” he interrupts, finally turning to face you. “just let me say it. i’m tired of pretending like you’re just a friend. tired of acting like i’m not completely in love with you.” his voice shakes, like the words cost him something. “every time we go out there, i think about what it’d do to me if you didn’t come back.”

you don’t respond with words. you just reach forward, take his face in your hands, and kiss him.

he reacts instantly—like he’s been holding back for years. his hands settle on your hips, pulling you closer, and it’s not frantic, not rushed. it’s relief. it’s soft, lingering, full of things neither of you had said until now. his lips are warm, familiar, a little desperate. when you finally pull back for air, your foreheads rest together.

“i’m right here,” you whisper. “i’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

jesse smiles, all breathless and stunned, and leans in to kiss you again—slower this time, like he doesn’t want to forget a single second of it.

[fairestwriting]

I always imagined epel to be the hidden but massive simp and idia to be the subtle yet still massive simp towards their gf so can i please request epel and idia with their gf doing a glow up makeover and comes out of the room in the most gorgeous hair and make up + dress ever for a lil date

epel IS a wifeguy in the making to me and thats something i’ll always stand for

𐙚 Epel Felmier

He’s already kind of imagined having a moment like that. It’s a thing that happened on way too many of the romance shows and movies he’s secretly watched when he got bored back home. And you are his first girlfriend, so his expectations are pretty much just the stories he’s heard from his family with a dash of what little media he’s seen before.

For the same reason, Epel already had in mind that a dinner date would be essential. That’s how you treat a girl right, isn’t it? You haven’t even been together for that long when he says, declares really, that he wants to take you out for dinner. ��At an actual restaurant in the city,” He quickly specifies with a determined look in his eyes. ”Not like, Mostro Lounge. The reviews online said it was real nice too.”

He’ll have everything planned out for the evening, and it’s actually all done surprisingly well too. Epel finds himself a nice-ish dress shirt and pants when he goes back home over the weekend, and he’s already done a few odd jobs around campus to make sure he has the money to treat you both. And of course he’ll wait in front of your dorm to pick you up too — only slightly resenting that you’re both still students right now, so he can’t do that while driving a cool car on top of everything else.

And when you meet him at the door, oh, how does he wish he had that car already— Though deep down, he knows he’d end up crashing it because he couldn’t stop looking at you. He’s already never silent about how he thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the world, and that remains true even now that he feels so blown away that it’s hard to come up with the right words.

He does tell you though. All red faced, with maybe a noticeable dose of awkwardness, he feels so much shyer than usual, kind of like he’s starstruck. When he’s walking you back to your dorm — which he insists in doing, like the proper gentleman he is — he might gather the courage to ask if you wanted to take a picture together. Epel feels silly doing it, and he’ll get flustered if you ask why… But at the same time, he can’t resist the feeling that he should make this memory permanent in some way.

𐙚 Idia Shroud

You might think it’s surprising that you got Idia to agree to properly go out at all, let alone to do something that’d warrant dressing up. You’ve definitely heard him talk about how he doesn’t like the idea of *stuffy, overly fancy* dates, how he doesn’t see the point in the whole thing, how he thinks people just go to certain places to show off because “the food isn’t even that good”… Idia definitely has a lot of opinions on the matter, none of them sounding very positive.

He is also a rich boy, though. One that’s more grounded than most, but still a rich boy nonetheless — You’ll find that his idea of “stuffy” is some place that he went to as a kid that has some genuinely insane, flashy gimmick, a possible black tie dress code, and artsy looking desserts that he shows you on his phone and scoffs at while he recalls how “mid” they tasted.

Basically, as long as whatever place you’re interested in going to isn’t too popular or crowded he’s pretty open to just going there whenever you want. He might whine a little about going outside, but you both know it’s not serious. He does get a little anxious at the idea of being somewhere that requires him to present differently than what he’s used to but… well, he’s just used to that, to a certain extent.

When he leaves his hideout to go pick you up, he’s pretty nervous, fidgeting with the sleeves of his favorite slightly nicer jacket he picked from the depths of his closet. You two agreed on planning most of the date together, as you always do, but regardless of how long you two have been together, Idia always gets a little nervous when you go out on proper dates… which is something he quickly forgets about when he sees you.

You might have to snap him out of the trance he gets into. Wow, how did he get this lucky, he’s thinking, and you know it because he says it out loud without even meaning to. He turns red up to his hair when he’s back in the land of the living, rapidly apologizing in case he said something weird, and you can’t help but laugh a little. ”S-Sorry, um. You do look really pretty… I meant that.” He mutters, voice high pitched and a little hurried. You get back to your usual rhythm soon enough, your presence helping him feel comfortable. He steals glances when he thinks you won’t notice, though, still wondering just how the hell he managed to get this lucky…

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[daenysx]

hi bby, could i request jealous modern!aemond?😊

i tried my best but i feel like everything was better in my head, i hope i managed to get things right with the words <333 thanks for requesting

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

-aemond needs to get you back.

cw; kinda like exes to lovers, jealous!aemond, aemond being an idiot and he's sorry for that, criston cole in his own warning, reader's shorter than aemond, mentions of alcohol, kissing, aemond being desperate to get you back, also he's a sad fool and he accepts that, suggestive towards the end but nothing descriptive, title is a hozier lyric

wc; 2k

i'll crawl home to her

aemond likes to think he's good at controlling his emotions. at least he can keep his face neutral, he doesn't let people know what he thinks.

that turns out to be a lie, though, the moment he sees a guy behind the bar stool you sit.

he relaxes his fists. you're not his girlfriend. he has no right to feel jealous over your affections. who's that guy, anyway? how can he be bold enough to talk to you like this, leaning to the bar with his arm almost wrapped around you? aemond hates the idea of someone being braver than him. he fucking despises the idea of you giving a smile to that- that asshole.

"you okay?" cole asks, his glass almost empty in his hand. he follows aemond's gaze and, boom. just like he guessed.

"of course, i'm okay." aemond replies, coolly. there's no logical reason behind his real emotions.

"if you keep staring like that, she will notice."

aemond turns to him sharply. his gaze is burning, almost feels like crying or something worse than that. "i'm not staring."

"if you say so." cole shrugs. he's got worse problems than dealing with aemond's jealousy to be honest. he knows aemond will never admit what's happening in truth.

"do you- do you know who that is?" aemond asks, not that he thinks cole can actually know a random guy at the bar. he tries to fill the stupid silence between them, change the subject after that, storm out when he finishes his drink. he despises the pathetic situation he unwillingly put himself into.

"do i know the guy who's flirting with your ex-girlfriend?" cole pretends to think. "um- no, i don't actually."

the mention of you burns his chest. it's because of the whisky, he tells himself. keep your cool, keep your cool. don't let them know anything.

"it doesn't matter, anyway." he says, feeling like a desperate fool.

"no, it doesn't." cole agrees. aemond can sense his mocking, his tendency to talk boldly tonight. cole isn't like that usually. "because you are not together anymore."

"we're not."

"because you let her go." cole continues, takes a sip from his glass. "it was quite stupid of you if you ask me."

"i didn't ask you, cole."

"no, no, but just- what were you thinking when you decided to break things off with her, hmm? what was the motivation behind it?"

"you're going too far."

"i'm not." cole says. "you just can't face with your own decisions."

"fuck off." aemond stands up, getting his jacket. "you don't even know what you're talking about. didn't ask your damn opinion about my love life, did i?"

"just admit you failed, aemond. lost the one good thing about you." cole speaks calmly after him. "you'd do all of us a great favor."

aemond walks away. there's no need for drunken arguments tonight, he's certainly not in the mood for discussing his past decisions. he can't help a brief look on your seat, though. you're not there. he didn't see you leaving, he can't see your jacket or that sparkly purse you love so much. the guy stays where he is, chatting with his friends. where are you?

"oh!" someone shorter than him almost collapses with his chest. "aemond?"

aemond wishes you to not look so pretty with that smudged eye make up and- his fucking favorite color on your lips. what kind of strength should he have to not kiss you against the wall when you're looking at him through those glossy eyes? he takes a step back, an apology ready on his lips.

you beat him through it. "sorry." you say, blinking your pretty eyes. "didn't see you there."

"no, it's okay." he collects himself before doing something stupid. "i was walking too fast."

you nod, your purse in your hand and your jacket thrown on your shoulders. you don't look drunk, maybe just tipsy. turning your back to him, you keep walking your way, out of the club. running into your ex-boyfriend shouldn't stop you from going home.

aemond thinks of the guy back there. you're not together with him, are you? he's not with you right now, he doesn't call a cab, and you don't look like you're waiting for anyone. that must be a relief. it doesn't feel like it, though. aemond is certain anyone who sees you would fall for your charms, that guy was no exception. all the hypothetical men get into his head. fuck them all.

"are you alone?" he asks you, foolishly. you nod. no words for him. why would you bother?

"i can- my car is over there if you-"

"i don't want anything from you, aemond."

okay. he deserves this. he knows he deserves this.

"it's late." he says. "i know you don't want anything to do with me, but i can at least-"

"i said no." you cut him. "you don't have to pretend to care."

you start walking in the cool breeze of night air. it feels nice on your face. aemond follows you like he's lost, like he doesn't know where to go without you. "can we talk?" he asks, his voice is softer than the last time you talked. "please?"

"there's nothing to talk about." you tell him, looking at him briefly.

"i made a mistake." he says like he's pleading. the alcohol gets him, his lips move on their own. he keeps telling himself he won't regret anything he tells you right now. he's not drunk, that means they are all real. "i made many mistakes. letting you go was the worst of them."

"that sounds like an interesting story." you say, sarcastically. "would you like to continue? i'm sure people on the street will enjoy your freak show."

he has no explanation for this but your attitude turns him on.

"i saw you with that guy." he says.

"you really should stop talking now." you say. "you're being pathetic."

"no, i-" he can get on his knees and beg. he's cursing his past self, cursing his stupid decisions. "please."

"please, what?" you get angrier each second. this is not a game you'll be playing with him. "do you realize how stupid you sound?"

"of course i do." he answers with a slight pout. "i just need you to see- to understand how terrible it makes me feel, to- to see you with another guy and not being able to do anything about it-"

"no need to be so selfish." you say, calmly. "i'm not your anything. you cannot react like this every time we run into each other by chance."

"i regret it." his legs can give up any second now. he begs for something divine to help him out of his misery. "i regret everything i did. i never should have let you go."

your heartbeat gets quicker with anger and adrenaline. the fact that you're still hopelessly in love with him does nothing to calm your nerves. he doesn't deserve your love. you will not accept anything he says until he proves he's worthy. you try to control your breath, stop your hands from shaking. he has no right to do this, you remind yourself.

"it's too late." you say. "you don't deserve to get everything back after you let them go like the way you did."

he looks at you so sweetly, you have to swallow and look away. he's fond of that attitude of yours, how you put yourself first after he hurt you, and his chest tightens with the loss of you there but he can't help a wave of affection towards your frowny face and your crossed arms. there's his girl, you're still there, still present with your anger and precise words. he would to anything to get you back.

"i know." aemond agrees, slowly. "i promise, i know- and you're right, whatever you decide to do, you're right."

"are you trying to fix us just because you saw me with another guy?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

"no, of course not. not only because of that." he says quickly. "i wanted you back since the first time you walked out. i just didn't have enough courage to talk to you."

"so you're admitting you were being stupid and acting like coward?" you challenge him with two things he hates the thought of being the most.

"it was stupid of me to break up with you." he says slowly. he's gonna have to be a big boy for this. "i was only trying to protect you from my family and- and myself, but i acted cowardly."

"i can protect myself." you say. "i don't need you to decide for me."

"i know that, sweetheart." he smiles. it's a tiny move on his lips, he's always so fond of your independent nature. "i apologise for not speaking things clearly."

it's your turn to smile. you take a step towards him, he stays still. the top buttons of his shirt expose his neck nicely, the chain you got him hanging there. he never let you go. he was only being an idiot. you think you want him back. he can fix his own idiocity by himself, but you want him back.

"what do you want?" you ask with a kind voice like you're teasing. you're not teasing, not in the least but he doesn't know that, does he?

"i want you to be my girlfriend again." he says, straightening his posture. his shoulders are high, his neck long. he feels like a dragon ready to fight for you. "if you'll have me."

you push him softly against the wall behind him and cup his cheeks. he accepts the kiss greedily, changing positions so that your back is against the wall. he makes a rightful mess of your lipstick, his hands on your waist and on the back of your neck. you close your eyes. his scent hits your senses so well, your hand goes to his shoulder to pull him closer.

you break the kiss. "you cannot do the same thing again, okay? you cannot leave me and come back, you cannot think for my place and make my decisions when it comes to you and our relationship."

"okay." he says, his eye closed and his lips following your mouth. "i promise."

"good." you say, pull him for another kiss. it's only been two weeks but you missed him. he feels safe like this, and familiar with his body pressed against yours against the wall of a club. the darkness of the night covers you, your sparkly purse is the only thing that can be seen from a distance.

aemond kisses you like he's been out of breath for so long. he's been a desperate fool for days but now it's over. everything gets clear when he gets you like this, his mind free of worry and anger, all those devilish thoughts that bother him. he's content with his place, he doesn't have to pretend he's okay. it's all real.

"by the way-" you start saying between two lovely kisses. "that guy back there already has a lover named charles. you didn't have to worry about him anyway."

aemond laughs and it's a real laugh, not one of the fake ones he has to throw into aegon's or cole's face. you smile and he kisses your cheek. you hold his hand, he squeezes your fingers.

"i like your dress." he changes the subject, leading you to his car. "is that new?"

"of course it is." you answer, cheekily. "my boyfriend decided to be a jerk for no reason and i had to keep myself busy with something."

aemond had no idea the night could turn into something amazing when he first agreed to come here with cole. he can't keep his hands off you, kisses you against the car this time. he's gotta find a way to make up for the time he made you lost. kissing you and getting you your favorite drink on the way home might be a good start.

he gives you a silent promise to atone his sins between your legs in the following hours.

[cvntoid]

Drive

Roman Roy tasks you with keeping him company on an evening errand.

under the cut: stupid banter, fingerfucking, oral sex, a little affection maybe, fuck you i don’t normally do this, leave me alone

“How much, honey?” Roman asks from the rolled down passenger window. He’s ducked down, eyes lidded, lips curled up in his customary smirk. 

“You wish, loser,” you snort, opening the door to slide in. “Driving yourself tonight, huh? Wowee. Big boy shit.”

“Yeah, fuck you. Buckle up. The only reason you’re even here is because you’re the only thing more annoying than this errand. Need you to distract me from my own misery.” Roman fucks with his phone a moment before tucking it back into his suit jacket. “All right. I already know you’re gunna ask, so, the bluetooth’s yours. Do your worst.”

You make a satisfied little sound as he starts driving, peering over at him in time to catch his smile. He makes a show of rolling his eyes. Within seconds, the car is filled with the sounds of cheesy early-2000s top forty, and Roman groans with displeasure, shooting you the most withered expression as he crinkles his nose. 

“Are you fuckin’ serious right now? This is, fuckin’… this is so ‘shitty frat party’. Just a room full of fuckin’ assholes, several racks of warm Pabst and, like, a two-to-one ratio of sweaty college boys to rich girls cosplaying as scene queens.” Roman laughs then. “I bet you were a scene girl, right? Like, remember those?”

“Yeah, Rome, I remember… um - you know. In, like, freshman year… of high school. MySpace and everything. Even had a Xanga, remember that? Or were you too busy being a really cool, spoiled-rich college kid?”

“High schooler? Gross. Turn this shit off, it’s giving me fuckin’ PSTD flashbacks.”

“No, you relinquished control and now you suffer.” You side-glance at him then, smiling sheepishly as you reach into your bag. “Um… however, I guess - I guess speaking of high school… I figured, we’re on this long drive and all, and… so.”

Roman glances over and watches you pull a joint out of your bag, clumsily rolled and hidden in a plastic capsule. 

“Oh, wow. Uh-oh. Somebody call my mommy, I don’t feel safe anymore.” Roman laughs again, his high-pitched, silly little giggle. It’s so endearing that you laugh, too, a lick of heat making your stomach flutter as his grin shows that canine you love so much. “Oh, man. What am I gunna fuckin’ do with you, delinquent. You absolute pain in my ass. Light her up, let’s fuckin go, let’s… make my car smell.”

You vibrate with pleasure, pulling an old Bic out of your pocket and starting the cherry. Roman pulls a face after he exhales, shaking his head as he hands it back.

“You bring me ragweed? What is this shit, something you rolled yourself from a decades-hidden stash somewhere? You dig this out of an old jacket or something?”

“I took it from your mom’s nightstand when I left her in bed this morning. She’s queer now, and I’m going to be your new stepmommy. Surprise!”

“Real nice. Stop trying to confuse my dick.”

After a while of comfortable silence and passing the joint back and forth, Roman’s fingers settle on your leg, just above the knee. He’s warm and heavy there, the pad of his thumb idly rubbing a soft, soothing little circle. It’s not unwelcome; it feels natural as ever, and you sneak another glance at him in your fuzzy little haze. Lights glance over his features with each passing streetlight, each car and building. His profile is so stark and beautiful. The shape of his brow, the long, elegant line of his nose, his lips. The hollows under his cheekbones look severe in the nicest way. His eyes flicker over to you and he gives you a squeeze. 

“Feels nice, huh?” he asks quietly, making it a point to tap his fingers on your leg. “It’s okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s nice.”

He makes a humming sound and settles his hand higher, fingers tickling along your inner thigh. 

“Did you ever play that game in high school, or - or college, or whatever? ‘Are you nervous?’ And, like, you - y’know, run your hand up their leg, or wherever, and the goal is to try not to bitch out. Sounds stupid now that I’m saying it out loud.”

“Mmm, yes, some of the good ol’ fashioned sexual harassment. Nice. Mutual molestation.” Roman smirks out the windshield. “No, I never played grope-my-friends, you little freak. Too busy groping myself, I guess. That and trying not to bring shame to the Roy name à la a lawsuit. I was a good boy.”

“Sure you were.”

“Okay, attitude. Just because you were getting your ass pinched and borderline felt-up all over the goddamn place. Creature.”

“Oh, it wasn’t - fuck off, it wasn’t like that, I was… I didn’t do anything beyond making out for, like, ever. Relatively speaking.”

“Let me guess,” Roman mumbles, hand sliding up further. He scoffs softly when your legs relax just a bit further apart, subtly encouraging him. Too easy. “You got fingerbanged for the first time in… a car.”

“No,” you say softly. Both of you are being so quiet now, voices hushed under the relaxing drone of his car on the freeway. It’s darker out here, the both of you wrapped in the darkness of the night. There’s the soft glow of his stereo, volume turned lower now, the lights of the dash. His hand keeps moving up - the heel of his palm is ridiculously close to the apex of your thighs, the seam of your crotch. His hand is warm, but your body is warmer. 

“Unbutton.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says, and his voice is tender and amused, riding on an undercurrent of something deeper. Something a little more demanding. He sounds surprised that you’re asking him to repeat himself, and that does something to you, makes your tummy flip and your heart skip. The both of you looking straight ahead, your face burning pink, you unbutton and unzip your jeans, hesitating again before he gives your leg another squeeze—firmer this time. It’s a little clumsy, but you manage to slip them off your hips, and they pool awkwardly around your legs as you sit back in your underwear, thighs bare to his touch now. He looks at you and says nothing, but his expression says it all. The swallow making his throat jump, his dark, lidded eyes and half-smile. He traces his pinky along the edge of your underwear, where the top of your thigh meets your hip. “Feeling nervous?”

“N-no…”

“If you are, the rule is that you have to tell me, remember?”

You hum in the positive, nodding as you watch his hand, watch him reach over against the fabric and drag a single fingertip up the clothed seam of your cunt. 

“Nervous now, sweetheart?”

“No.”

“Tell me about the first time somebody fingerfucked your pussy.”

You open your mouth to say something sarcastic, to balk at his question, but instead, you sit there with your dumb fucking expression, staring out at the black sky with its stars poking through. The longer you stare out that big window at the big, seemingly empty expanse, the more little dots of light seem to appear. Isn’t that funny. Roman’s patient as ever, silent and minding his business watching the road the entire time he traces his fingertip along your panties. It doesn’t take anybody checking to know for sure - the gusset is slowly getting wet, damp under his attentions. But it’s not all that, is it? There’s something here - something about the dynamic between you two, the back and forth. Something. 

“I… was… in a movie theater,” you say, and then a smile splits your lips. You laugh a little, and a glance Roman’s way reveals his own silly little smile. His finger continues its slow, torturous journey, up, down, up, down. 

“Yeah? Fuck, what did you see?”

“God, I don’t know - don’t remember. It was awful. He had no idea what he was doing, and… neither did I. It was shocking how disappointing it was, because… I just…” Roman adds a second fingertip, and the two of them drag slow circles over your clothed clit. You take a moment, and then there it is - your stupid, breathy laugh, pretending he’s not making it worse. Better? Fuck, who knows. “I… I just remember thinking, this is it? This is terrible. I had no idea.”

“Tragic,” Roman mumbles. “Feeling nervous yet?”

“Umm…” Roman pulls the gusset slowly to the side and dips a single fingertip along your naked slit. “Oh - mmm, no… no.”

“No, you’re not nervous, or no, you don’t want this?”

“I’m not nervous,” you whisper.

“Can’t hear ya, honey.”

“I’m not fucking nervous,” you blurt. Roman laughs, a genuine laugh that makes his fingers pause, makes you smile back despite yourself. There you are, leaning back in your seat and turning to gaze on Roman’s wrinkled eyes and silly fucking grin, his teeth as he cackles in the way only he does. Your hips twitch and you look forward again, unwilling to acknowledge it even as you feel Roman turn to glance at you. 

“Good,” he says gently. “So, where was it, then?”

“What?”

Roman’s single fingertip turns into two, and slowly he pushes them inside. It makes you gasp a little, and you pointedly ignore his pleased grin, regardless of how badly you want to look at it, how hot it makes you to imagine tasting it. 

“Where did you first cum with somebody else fingering you?”

“Mmmm… my parent’s couch. Not the same person. Years later, I was -” Roman curves those fingers and gently teases all that tight flesh inside, rubbing, searching. Taking in your reactions, reading your body. Feeling for those little butterfly pulses in your cunt. “I… I was -”

“Uh huh. Focus. First time somebody made you cum with their fingers.”

“I was… 21. Babysitting. He - oh, fuck… he… had my head in his lap, hand in my pants, we were watching something. Kid was - it was my sister, she was little, and… and holed up in my folks’ room. Fuck. Roman -”

“Wow,” Roman intones, the sound of his smirk coloring his voice. “Mommy and Daddy not home, supposed to be babysitting. Cumming on your boyfriend’s fingers - naughty fuckin’ girl. Did you do him, too?”

Roman’s rhythm becomes more focused, then, as though he’s translating your quiet little breaths, the way you hold in your moans and stare out the window, shy, afraid of him seeing you all vulnerable and fucked up like this. You wait a moment and Roman allows the silence to stretch comfortably on, trying not to let on how eager he is to hear you recount your exploits. 

“No. No, just - he just… did me. That night. Fuck,” you gasp, clenching down on his fingers as he strokes a particularly sensitive spot. He zeroes in on it with firm, steady strokes, turning to watch your eyes flutter shut and your head hang back against the headrest, lips parted. You grasp the edge of the seat and he thinks you look so fucking cute this way, all scrunched up at the nose and concentrated, hips rocking so slightly for him. Roman smiles and lets you have it another few moments before pulling his wet fingers out of your body, opting instead to rub your clit in torturously slow circles. You whine a little, shifting as you exhale. 

“Look at you, being spoiled. Lucky thing,” he teases. “What a fucking gentleman, huh?”

“What do you know about being a gentleman, Roman Roy?” You laugh a little, but it comes out breathy, all the poison softened by the undertone of pleasure. Barely a jab at all, merely a…stroke. 

“Got me there. Never was one for valiant pursuits and shit.”

“Well… I like you that way. This way. Whatever.”

“Aww, look at you, getting all tender and cum-dumb. That’s fuckin’ adorable. Tell me more about what you like about me, sweetheart.”

“Fuck off,” you breathe, and Roman’s fingers move just a little faster. God, you’re wet. There’s a thought in the back of your head - what if he just edges you and doesn’t let you finish? It’s enough to make you moan a little, and Roman’s eyebrows go up when he hears it, a dog perking up. 

“Feeling something over there?”

“No.”

“Sure, sure. Yeah, nothing at all. Tell me about… the first time you sucked cock.”

“Mmm-mh, it was bad. Very unsexy.”

“Tell me or I’ll stop.”

“Oh, fuckin’ -” You huff petulantly, nudging against his fingers when he stills them, showing you he means it. “Stop it! I mean - fucking - don’t stop it, like - okay, fine. Please.”

Roman laughs and moves back into that rhythm you seem to like so goddamned much, drinking in that relieved little sigh you make when he’s rubbing your clit again. 

“You’re so fucking easy.”

“And you’re a fucking asshole.” You take a breath and peer at him sidelong, tracing the shape of his profile. Tattooing it on your brain. Thinking briefly about his nose on your clit, the graceful, gorgeous bridge of it slowly sliding against it, instead, his fingers buried in your cunt. It makes you shudder and there’s another moan. “Okay. It - it was, uh… in this. This fucking… alleyway. Behind a local store. He just kind of… sprang it on me, I didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t finish him. It was weird and embarrassing.”

“Behind a fucking - okay, wow. That’s… yeah, that’s pretty fucking bad,” he laughs. “Little fuckin’ exhibitionist over here, giving out blowies behind the fuckin’ Safeway or whatever. Slut.”

“Fuck off, I was… curious, and… and - anyway. It took me a long time to figure it out. And an even longer time to be good at it and enjoy it. So, there you go.”

“And now you’re a pro.”

“And now I’m a pro,” you smile. “First time I went down on a girl was nicer, and more fun. Way better.”

Roman’s fingers pick up speed, his dick throbbing in his slacks. You meet his gaze and fuck, you have this soft, coy little fuck-me smile on your lips. He imagines those lips wrapped around his cock, and he also imagines them kissing some pretty girl’s wet, pink pussy, and he clears his throat. He stares again at the road, stroking you just a little faster, now, a little more urgently. 

“It was at a party. I’d always had a crush on her, and - mmm, we were drunk. She came with her boyfriend. He was being a prick, and I told him I was going to steal her and fuck her,” you laugh. “I was just trying to be a jerk, but… later on we decided to sleep together and we started showing each other, um… our bodies, and - and… I said I’d never had sex with a girl before, but always wanted to. She asked if I wanted to right there, and I did. Fuck. She was pretty, soft, responsive. She grabbed my hair.”

“Fuck,” Roman whispers, palming his cock real quick. He rubs it idly through his pants, imagining it. Picturing you making this girl cum on your tongue. He feels like a fucking teenager again, all excited over something so basic as two hot girls eating each other. He feels warm in the face, and if he listens hard, he swears he can hear how wet you are as he touches you.

“She went down on me, too, but I didn’t need her to. Just wanted to make her cum.”

“Did you?” Roman swallows. “Make her cum?”

You nod, eyes half-closed as you rock against his fingers. Pressure builds and grows between your thighs, that familiar tight feeling becoming more urgent. Roman can feel you getting close in the way your breathing starts changing, the way you’re mindlessly grinding back against his slippery fucking fingers. All those desperate, sharp gasps, humming and moaning. Oh, yeah, he’s gunna make you fucking cum. 

“You gunna give it to me? Yeah? You gunna cum for me?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah,” you whimper, and he watches you close your eyes and arch a little, knowing to keep his rhythm, to keep you focused on the molten-hot, glittering stretch to orgasm, your body growing more and more tense. He can see how wet you are through your panties, steals glances at the way his fingers look outlined in that thin cloth. 

“Good. Good fucking girl,” he coos softly. “You’re so pretty like this, you know that?”

Oh - that’s it. You gasp and it washes over you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath as it rushes up through your body until you’re seeing white behind the eyes, crashing back down to make your cunt spasm and clench and throb, explosion after explosion so that you’re moaning Roman’s name and bucking against his touch. He doesn’t back down, following the way your body moves - it’s enchanting, how agonized you look. All for him. He did this to you, and after the initial explosion of pleasure, he sinks his fingers back inside and thrusts them into that tight little spot you love so much. The broken way you sob a new moan out makes him want to cum right then and there. Fuck. He murmurs little encouragements, there you go, let me have it, honey, good girl, fuck look at you, look at you cum so hard for me. 

As it dies down, Roman pulls his hand gingerly back and sucks his fingers clean, humming at the way you taste. You look spent as you catch your breath, thighs slack in the seat, underwear soaked through. Face the most gorgeous shade of blush as you lean back and recover. You glance over at him and roll your eyes, smiling and covering your face. 

“Stop. Stop staring at me, I’m all… whatever.”

“You’re ‘all whatever’?”

“Yeah!”

“You’re all fuckin’ hot. Making my dick hurt. It’s honestly super fucking rude of you.”

“Poor Romey.”

“Yeah, poor fuckin’ Romey. Exactly.” Roman presses the heel of his palm against his cock again, feeling his pulse everywhere - in his dick, his chest, the tip of his nose. He reaches over and takes your hand, presses it against the twitching bulge along his inner thigh where it’s trapped and neglected. “Feel this shit? This is your fault. What with your fuckin’ moaning and… fuckin’ lesbian sleepover stories. Fuck.”

You run your fingers teasingly along his length, relishing the stupid little sound he makes when you give it a gentle squeeze. You massage it like that for a couple of minutes, watching his brow knit together, his knuckles going white on the steering wheel. You can tell he’s getting worked up and irritated, and it makes it better, somehow. Makes you breathe a little laugh through your nose, the most gentle scoff. 

“Yeah, you’re all fucked up, aren’t you?”

“No shit, what - what gave it away?” he says dryly, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“You asking for a little handy, Rome?” Your eyes glitter in the dark and his breath catches in his throat for a moment as you gaze at him like that, all fucking pink-cheeked and smirking, your hand so excruciatingly slow as it moves over his cock. “Now who’s being a teenager, huh?”

“Oh, I was thinking… you know, you got me so fucking riled up about all that learning you’ve done perfecting your cocksucking technique, yeah?” Roman takes a hand off the wheel to clumsily undo his slacks, maneuvering them to pull his cock free, and god - he’s so hard, leaking at this point. He takes in the way your smirk seems to melt off your face, eyes trained on him, on how it visibly pulses under your heated gaze. “Time to put your money where your mouth is, sweetheart. Why don’t you show Daddy how good you are at giving road head.” 

For a second, he thinks you’re going to shy away, and there’s a fleeting thrill that shoots all the way down to his fucking balls at the thought of you being a little afraid, a little nervous. Just a little.

But no - there you are, tucking your hair behind your ear, and that innocent little gesture makes him groan before you’ve even touched his naked cock yet. He lifts an arm to allow you down toward his lap, and you give the wet head of his dick a little kiss before working those soft lips around it. Roman moans, eyelids fluttering as he focuses on the road, glancing down to try to catch a glimpse - but it’s just your hair, the back of your head. He can’t really see the action, but, oh, he can feel it. 

You take your time. swirling your tongue around his cockhead, all that sensitive velvety flesh. You run your tongue along the delicate knot just underneath, where the gorgeous flare of his tip bows out, just under his slit. It’s an art - working your way slowly deeper, lower, giving him a couple extra deep strokes into the back of your throat so you can drool over him and lubricate better. It always works - you coat him like that, focusing on developing a rhythm for him. All of him, the column of hot, thick jerk-and-pulse, that slightly sweaty taste of his skin. 

“Oh, fuck… fuuuuck,” he whines, thighs taut with tension. He’s not going to last long. It’s been too much teasing, fingering your little cunt and hearing your little stories, and now you’re making good on your word. Worshiping his cock exactly like he needs you to. Sucking, lapping, licking, gagging. God, he loves that, loves the sound of it when it’s just slightly too much, the sweet little moan you make as it vibrates into his body. He stares at the road, but his brain is on autopilot - all he can focus on is the visceral feeling of you drooling on his balls, the obscene sounds of you sucking and slurping his cock. 

“I - I’m not gunna… god, okay, I’m gunna fucking cum soon, so - uh, fuckin’ - giving you a little - oh, sweet fuckin’ Jesus, wh—”

As soon as he starts to try to warn you about how close he’s getting, you start trying to throat him. The speed doesn’t necessarily change, but you take him harder, deeper, more thoroughly, moaning against all that smooth, rippled cockflesh, enjoying the way he wants to thrust up into your face. You imagine him holding your head down and skullfucking you and another moan vibrates against him, traveling deep into his core.

“Oh my fuckin’ god, I’m… I’m gunna f-fucking cum, holy shit —”

The telltale swell and throb of his cock signals you more than anything. You take it just a bit slower, taking your time to flatten and drag your tongue up the shaft of his cock as he pulses his load in spurts, warm and thick, swallowing as you go. His moans are long, whiny, absolutely erotic. You imagine his face, thinking of the way he has to struggle to keep his eyes on the road, the thrill of it making your cunt clench again. Would he swerve just a little? Are you gunna feel the vibrations of the turtle-bumps on the road as he edges from the lane, trying to keep his cool and focus as he empties into your mouth? He rolls his hips helplessly as you milk the last of it from him, already feeling his dick go soft, refusing to let him out of your mouth til he’s twitching and making the most deliciously pathetic sounds, so overstimulated and sensitive. With a lewd pop, you release him, licking your lips. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Roman sighs, glaring at you with no actual malice. “Didn’t have to… fucking… pull out all the stops, there. I get it, you suck dick.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment. Thank you - and you’re welcome,” you say smugly, smiling. You watch with vague interest as Roman struggles to tuck himself back into his slacks and zip up again, squirming to get comfortable, to get everything situated. He rolls his eyes, but his satisfaction is clear. 

“Almost there,” he says quietly. And, true to his word, within minutes he’s pulling into the mostly-empty parking lot of a huge office building, leaving the car on and pointing at you sternly as he unbuckles. 

“Don’t go running away on me,” he says. 

You watch his confident stride as he straightens his jacket, smooths his fingers through his hair, and then he’s inside. Barely ten minutes go by before he’s striding out of the building with a cardboard box, ostensibly full of documents. He sets it into the backseat, gives it a couple slaps on the top, and gets himself back into the driver’s seat to buckle in. 

“Mission accomplished,” he murmurs, gracing you with a very charming grin. You smile back at him, his silly gestures so infectious and endearing that it makes your heart ache. 

“Mhm. You’re cute, Roman Roy.”

Roman has such a warm expression before he rolls his eyes, so fast and unexpected that you may have imagined it. 

“Yeah, fuck off, whatever. Shut up.”

After he gets back on the freeway, the both of you sated and comfortable, the drone of the car and the comfortable silence starts to lull you into a comfortable half-sleep. You recline the seat a little, turn on the seat warmer. Roman’s hand startles you as it settles on your leg, giving you a gentle rub, a squeeze. He chuckles to himself at your irritation, the almost-embarrassment of how you jumped from surprise. 

“Yeah. Who’s cute now,” he mumbles under his breath. “Gunna take a little nap?”

You hum in the positive, eyelids so heavy. It’s so warm, so comfortable and gentle. It feels good to feel his hand. It feels good to hear the rumble of the wheels on the road, the passing cars sounding so distant somehow. It’s just you and Roman under the night, driving in that blanket of quiet. Safe. 

[answer2jeff]

' treat me tonight '

a/n: this is (debatably) some of the best smut i've ever written but i'm still new to the field ! give ya girl some suggestions if desired.

song : i know we could be so happy baby.

warnings : fluffy smut, fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), piv sex (unprotected), both reader and carmen have a bit of a praise kink, brief hairpulling, the "L-word," established relationship, gets a little rough towards the end, back scratching, porn with no real plot. not proofread

word count: 2.6k+

MDNI : i am not responsible for your media consumption.

NSFW under the cut — last warning!

"Try it," Carmen cupped your jaw as he lifted the wooden spoonful of creamy, tomato soup to your mouth, thumbing your bottom lip gently so you could carefully swallow every last bit. He enjoyed feeding you, if he was being totally honest. Even if this had been upon your request. Making his girl happy with what he did best was nothing short of a blessing to him.

"Mmm," you hummed in amusement, swallowing before smiling contently and nodding your head. "'S great, Carmy. Fuckin' delicious."

Long days at work dealing with insensitive clientele and immature coworkers seemed to be so easily remedied by Carmen's cooking. You weren't sure if it was because it was him catering to you and loving you the one way he always knew how, or if the food was just that fucking amazing. Maybe a little bit if both.

"Yeah? Alright," he chuckled a bit, grabbing the ladle beside the pot and scooping the simple, yet beautifully crafted tomato soup into a ceramic bowl. He seemed to know exactly how you liked it, despite him asking you if you enjoyed it every. single. time.

You accepted the bowl with a sickly sweet smile on your face, giving Carmen a kiss on his clean shaven cheek to thank him for his gesture before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen counter. Carmen just stood with his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned against the dining table, candidly watching you enjoy the warm bowl of soup

"So," you slurped some of the soup as you paused, "I'm thinkin' of giving Syd that top we found the other day."

Thrifting had become of recent liking to you anD Carmen. Just shopping and mooching around Chicago in search of vintage pieces. Mostly to actually wear, but partly to collect or regift to fellow friends. Last time you two had a day off, you found a beautiful vintage button down. A white base with downward blue stripes with a finely stitched breast pocket containing a 'V' pattern. The cuffs were cinched perfectly. It was a little baggy, too, which you knew Sydney would love.

"Ooh, yeah. I, uh, I really liked that. I think she'd really love it," Carmen nodded, "You gonna get 'er somethin' else with it? Like, to pair with it? Or just the shirt?"

"I was gonna ask you to help me with that, actually," you pointed a finger to Carmen, turning away for just a moment to gently place the empty bowl and spoon into the kitchen sink.

Carmen always thought you had a good eye for other people's tastes. Not just in fashion. The world seemed unpredictable to Carmy. But you made it look so easy, so loving to just know what people wanted. He always wished he had that kind of understanding for people. But for now, he'd admire such a trait you had.

"Hm?"

"I remember she mentioned something about having all these cool tops n' jackets and such, but, like—hardly any nice pants other than those fuckin' jeans she loves."

"Mhm," he stepped closer to you and planted his hands on your shoulders. But you soon reached for them and planted them on your hips, earning a little upward curl of his lip.

"I know you loved those nice jeans like they were your babies 'till you had to sell them," you frowned, entangling your fingers in his messy, blonde curls while your other hand rested on the back of his neck.

"Fuck, I know. Really wish I didn't have to," he tried to let out a breathy laugh to compensate for the genuine disappointment.

Fuck, did he love those pants. Pants were the one piece of fashion Carmen didn't have to second guess himself on. From jeans to slacks, he knew how to pair every possible fabric. And he never knew how to flatter the upper half of his body, so he always wore those dammed white t-shirts.

Not that you were complaining.

Especially right now, the t-shirt highlighting his broad shoulders and exposing his thick arms plastered with sentimental tattoos you always loved. You began to run your hands up and down the exposed skin. He glanced down at your patterned touch, flattered.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, anyway, I need you to help me look for a nice pair of jeans for Sydney. Can y'do that for me, hun?"

Carmen nodded rapidly, his eyes drifting from your lips and back into your eyes. His thumbs rubbed intricate little circles of adoration into your thighs.

"Yeah, baby," he smiled. "This weekend, maybe? I can take a couple hours," tilting his head, he held your chin to pull your face just inches away from his own. Something about your tendencies to make the ones you loved happy with little surprises just warmed him.

"Mhm. That works," you sighed, planting a soft kiss on his lips before wrapping your arms around his neck.

Carmens immediate suggestion just struck something in you. Months ago, he would've thrown excuse after excuse (although valid) as to when he couldn't be available, but never when he could. You felt proud of him.

"You're so good to me, Carmen."

"Yeah?"

He was learning. He was loving.

"Mhm," you barred your bottom lip behind your teeth, giving Carmen's arms a squeeze. He exhaled sharply and wondered where this could've been going.

You drove him a little crazier than he ever liked to admit. A delicate hand reached away from your hip and up to your face. He thumbed your bottom lip, the reflection of the kitchen light shining against your mouth that was glossy with a mix of both of your salivas. Carmen gazed at you in awe, a little embarrassed when he realized how long he'd been staring.

"I—" he shrugged, struggling to find the words, "I'd do it all for you, baby."

Whispering back as he began to cave in, he leaned into your neck and placing an opened mouth kiss on the skin. The smell of your perfume and the natural scent of your body was so familiar to him. It distracted him enough to let his hands roam up and down your torso before repeating that same motion on your thighs.

"Want you t.." you swallowed, your eyes shutting harshly when when he sucked a bruising hickey onto your skin.

"Want me to what, sweet girl?" Carmen mumbled, the butterflies in your stomach raging when his teeth grazed against the spot. You gently anchored your hand into his hair and pulled him away from your neck so you could see him again.

"Want you to treat me tonight," you whispered as your hands travled up to his shoulders.

He wished you could be more specific. But with your pretty eyes, your kiss-swollen lips, your thighs spread against the cold marble counter as they spilled out of your cotton shorts, how could he tease you any longer?

"That I can do."

—

Carmens body seemed to loosen up and relax as his rough hand slid down lower on your back to grab at the waistband of your shorts. You practically melted to his touch. He kissed you again, smiling against your lips as you giggled into the kiss once he slid your shorts down to your ankles. You nodded when he pulled away, ensuring him that he was on the right track.

"Need you t'spread, baby," his hand pried between your soft thighs.

"O—okay," You bit the inside of your cheek as you slowly spread your legs apart. The wet spot of arousal in the middle of your panties was completely in view now. Feeling Carmen's eyes drifting downward, you accidentally drew your knees closer together again.

"Hey," Carmen whispered while he looked into your eyes for an answer, despite your gaze being glued to the floor.

"You okay? We don't have to do thi—"

"No, no," you shook your head, "I want to. Just..not used to it. That's all."

It was true. You'd only tried oral about twice. And it went great, you couldn't deny. But you still struggled to literally open yourself up to him. You just needed a little encouragement.

"You don't have to hide, baby. You look—you are beautiful," he kissed your forehead, "so, so beautiful. Okay?"

Finally feeling some reassurance, you tried again. You spread your legs once again and let Carmen peel your soaked panties down your legs to where your shorts had been. He gave you one last look to see if you were ready, to which you happily nodded.

In the sweetest gesture, Carmen removed his own t-shirt so you wouldn't be alone. He unbuttoned his jeans and tossed them somewhere near the dining table, being left in just his boxers that outlined his slowly hardening cock.

"Thank you," you chuckled.

"Of course."

Carmen began trailing kisses from your neck down to your shoulder blade. His hands gently lifted your tank top over your head before cupping one of your breasts, his fingertips playing with your hard nipple as he kissed you one last time. He sank down to his knees, hooking your calves over his shoulders. You scooted a little closer to the edge of the counter to give him the best access to your throbbing cunt.

"Yep. Right here, baby."

He had you exactly where he wanted you.

You finally looked down at him after avoiding direct eye contact for the past few minutes. His blue eyes fully encapsulated you. He looked gorgeous between your thighs. Especially when he sucked little hickeys that wouldn't actually last against your inner thighs that made you squirm.

"You look pretty like this, bear," your hand reached to brush a loose curl out of his face. The flush that colored his pale cheeks was cute.

"You think so?" Carmen grinned. He relished in the feeling of having such gentle yet everlasting control. In his own kitchen, his beautiful girl in his hands, her thighs around his head, fully willing and wanting to let him take every part of her he could ever imagine.

You were nothing short of perfect to him.

Not wanting to waste any more time, and without preamble, he licked a bold stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit. Your breath hitched in your throat when his grip on your thighs tightened. He started to create a sense of rhythm, roughly sucking on the sensitive mound of nerve endings before soothing it with kitten licks and flat-tongued strides.

Your hand tugged at a handful of his curls. He groaned at the sensation, swirling his tongue around you to feel every fucking inch of your pussy.

"Fuck, Carmy..."

"You got the prettiest pussy, baby. So good and wet for me," he mumbled against you, his eyes still remaining closed. He needed to focus, or else he might fall apart at the sight of pure, filthy pleasure on your pretty face.

"Shut up—" you protested.

Your thighs began to shake as your head reeled back. Carmen hesitated for a moment, wiggling his fingers around anxiously before pulling his mouth away from your vulva and ever so carefully slipping in 2 large fingers.

A long, drawn out moan escaped your mouth the moment he curled his fingers upward into your g-spot. The idea of staying quiet was out of the fucking question. Oh, and now that Carmen's tongue was back on you? Forget it.

"Oh my fucking g—fuck!" you smacked your hand over your mouth, your other hand still entangled in your lovers hair. Pulling and tugging and earning the sexiest groans you'd ever heard in your life.

The sound of your voice slowly raising in pitch was enough for Carmen to change his pace. He inched himself even closer, and at an otherworldly speed flicked his tongue repeatedly against your clit. Over. And over. And over again. But his fingers slowed down to avoid overstimulating you. He needed this to last. Blissfully.

The knot in your stomach that indicated your teeter against your orgasm taunted you.

"Carm, I'm—" you took a short breath moaning incohereant babbles along the lines of 'so fuckin' good, just like that, baby' until you blurted, "I'm probably not gonna last any longer..'S too much."

You'd grown so desperate to cum that your hips ground back and forth, the tip of Carmens tongue perfectly brushing against your sensitive clit while he used the hand that was once fucking you to squeeze the fat of your breast. With his other hand, he reached down to palm his throbbing cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. He pulled his erection out from the cloth and stroked himself slowly, the final moan of "fuck," shortly followed by your name before he harshly sucked on your clit once more, was enough to throw you over the edge.

"Oh, fuck, Carmy!"

After the last couple minutes of him practically making out with your pussy, your body finally allowed itself to release, your legs shaking vigourisly as you tried desparately to catch your breath. You could literally feel a pulse-like sensation on your clit from the orgasm.

It was dirty, filthy; cumming on Carmen's pretty face right on top of his kitchen counter.

But fuck, was it hot.

—

"You think you got another one left in there for me, baby?" Carmen cooed, wrapping your legs around his hips and drawing you in so close that your breasts were pressed against his bare chest. He peppered kisses along your jaw until he resided on your lips, his tongue slipping in to create a sloppy, passionate mess of a kiss.

His clothed hard-on pressed against your clit, which was nearly fully recovered, lacking the overwhelming sensitivity it had just a couple minutes ago.

"Maybe you should find out," you teased against his ear, nipping at the skin of his neck right underneath. You gently pressed your hand against his chest, backing him up just the slightest bit so you could slip his pre-cum soaked boxers with ease.

Without another thought, Carmen carefully lined himself up with your pussy. The head of his dick passed between your folds to build anticipation. Your hands gripped his shoulders, slippery with sweat, once he finally began to push his raw cock into your hole, your arousal serving as a perfect lubricant.

"Fuck," he rasped as he watched his cock disappear into your pussy in awe "so fuckin' tight for me. So pretty n' perfect."

The two of you hardly waited to allow every thrust and slap of skin against skin get messy and rough. With Carmen desperately needing to cum and you anxiously needing to feel him inside of you, there wasn't much consideration for a slow fuck.

"Fuck me, Carmen."

With that, Carmen dug his hands into your hips and pulled several inches out of you before slamming back in. You somehow moaned louder every time. His face contorted to pure, ravenous pleasure and lust as moan and groan after groan writhed from his throat. Your nails clawed at his back, earning a "shit," and his teeth sinking into your shoulder as you ground back and forth against him to achieve the perfect thrusting angle.

"I love you," he whimpered, fucking whimpered his adoration for you. He was completely pussy drunk, his thrusts turning fast and short unlike they were when they started out.

Those words made your heart pound in your head. Sure, you'd exchanged 'I love you's' during the last year or so of your relationship, but you couldn't recall a time it was said during rough-kitchen-counter-sex.

"I love you so fuckin' much, Carm," you sobbed in a fit of utter horniness and overwhelming sense of pleasure, feeling Carmen's thick cock and squeezing your warm, gummy walls around him.

"I'm gonna cum, angel, I—"

"I know, baby. Go ahead. W-want you to fill me up."

Almost as if the universe had been working specifically in your favor, you managed to reach your orgasm just seconds before he did. Every drop of your arousal went down his thigh, while his cum perfectly filled up your cunt. He pulled out slowly watching the white and sticky semen drip down your hole.

"Was that your idea of me 'treating you' tonight?"

[sai-int]

superintendent!simon and the cute bird that moves into his building

The rain had started again. A slow, steady drizzle that soaked the pavement and drummed against the rusted gutters of the three-story brick building Simon Riley begrudgingly called home. He stood beneath the awning, arms crossed, watching the moving van idling at the curb.

New tenant. Apartment 3B—the cursed one.

Every flat in this place had its quirks, but 3B? It was a real piece of work. Past tenants always had something to complain about. When it rained, it leaked. The AC blasted hot air when set to cool, and cold air when set to heat. The shower wouldn’t run unless you smacked the wall three times in a very specific order. The kitchen light flickered like a bad horror film, and sometimes—just sometimes—the floorboards groaned like someone was walking across them when no one was home.

He’d spent the past two weeks getting the damn place “ready,” which mostly meant slapping temporary fixes on things that would inevitably go to hell again. His hands still ached from patching up leaks, and he was not in the mood to deal with whatever poor bastard was moving in. He’d been expecting another old man—maybe another deaf pensioner who’d blast his football matches loud enough to shake the walls.

But then the driver’s side door of the moving van swung open, and you stepped out.

Defintely not senile. Not even close.

For a man who’d spent his life honing a mask—literal and otherwise—he was embarrassingly slow to school his expression. You were bright-eyed, wearing a jacket too thin for the chill, and looked up at the building with an expression that could only be described as hopeful.

That won’t last long.

Still, when you turned and met his gaze, smiling as if the world hadn’t wrung the warmth out of you yet, something in his chest gave an unfamiliar, unwelcome lurch.

“You the landlord?” you asked, lugging a box out of the van.

“Super,” he corrected. “Simon.”

“Well, Simon,” you huffed, adjusting your grip on the box. “Think you could give me a hand?”

He should’ve said no. Ever since his discharge, his knee had been a constant thorn in his side—acting up at the worst times, locking up in the cold, flaring so bad it took days to settle because his insurance wouldn’t cover the anti-inflammatories he actually needed. And besides, he didn’t owe you a damn thing.

But then you looked up at him, hopeful and expectant, all wide eyes and easy charm, and something in him—something he thought had long since withered—gave way.

With a sigh, he stepped forward, plucking the box from your arms with insulting ease.

“That all you’ve got?”

“God, I wish,” you laughed. “Nope. There’s more. A lot more.”

And so it began. He carried your things up three flights of stairs, listening as you talked—rambling about how you found the listing, how you’d always wanted to live in Manchester, how you’d heard this building had ‘character.’

Simon snorted at that. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

He didn’t have the heart to tell you that your flat was going to be a nightmare. You’d figure that out soon enough.

When he finally dropped the last box inside, he expected you to shoo him off with a polite thanks. Instead, you leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, head tilted.

“You like tea?”

He eyed you, then the freshly unpacked kettle on your counter.

“You got proper biscuits?”

Your grin was a bright thing in the dimly lit hall. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

And just like that, Simon Riley found himself stepping inside.

[katsukistofu]

pls write more megumi!!!! i love how you wrote your recent fic ugh hes so perfecttttt

your wish is my command <3 tysm for enjoying sweetheart i’m glad you liked it ! :)

here comes the sun

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ m. fushiguro x fem reader. fluff. ★ car rides are more bearable when they’re with you.

It’s barely five minutes into the drive and Megumi’s already thinking that Itadori needs to have his license revoked. For life.

His hand darts over to cup the side of your head with a gentle yet firm grip, almost reflexively at this point, stopping you from hurling into the sidedoor after a particularly nasty jostle, for the third curse-forsaken time in a row.

“I think you missed running over a curb back there.” Megumi says dryly in the direction of the front seat.

A cool, summer breeze ruffles his hair as he carefully readjusts your head so instead of lolling to the side, it’s resting on his shoulder. There. That should be much more comfortable for you.

“Hey!” Itadori protests, hands a bit shaky on the wheel. He’s wearing pajama pants with little Spider-mans on them. “I’ve never been in a fancy car without a roof. I’m just getting used to her, that's all.”

“Her?”

“Yeah. Donna.”

Megumi arches a brow. “You named the car.”

“I mean that’s what sensei called her.”

“…Of course he did.”

“Can you two shut up?” Nobara hisses. She’s clad in her own Powerpuff Girl pajamas and Her eyes are still covered by the pink sleep mask that came as a matching set with your pants but you gave it to her instead . “We’re trying to sleep.”

“You are. She’s been knocked out.” Itadori points at you, who’s clinging onto Megumi’s arm like a koala.

“Only because I made sure you wouldn’t wake her up with your shitty driving.” Megumi scowls, curling a protective arm around your waist as the car swerves a little too far left for his liking. His Batman pajama pants brush against your Hello Kitty ones as his thigh bumps against yours, and if you were awake he knew you’d make a joke about them kissing.

“Eyes on the road, idiot.”

Itadori huffs and turns back around to face the wheel. Thankfully you’re still snoozing away, although the way you’re nuzzling into his neck is starting to make him feel a little warm.

Maybe he should have taken his jacket off and put it on top of your blanket.

They pass a herd of cows and Megumi can’t help the upward tug of his lips, remembering your excited squeals when they passed one earlier just an hour ago, chanting ‘Gumi look, Gumi look!’

“I see them,” he had said, more focused on readjusting your seat belt that had somehow unbuckled itself.

With a grin you pointed to a pair that was grazing near a patch of berry bushes. “Those two kind of look like us.”

He finally looks up after making sure you’re safely fastened, hand still softly resting on your waist.

“You’re right, one looks like it doesn’t even know it’s eating grass.”

The pleasant memory of your giggles are drowned out and he narrows his eyes as of course, Itadori and Nobara choose that moment to crank up the radio. It’s a band he never cared for, but remembers the name of along with the lyrics to a few songs because he knows they’re your favorite.

“Turn. It. Down.” Megumi mouths at them, but it’s too late and you’re already starting to blearily open your eyes. The boy that has you tucked beside him sighs in defeat.

On your side of the car, the sun is starting to set and it casts a soft, golden glow like a blanketed halo on your cheekbones down to the tip of your nose, to your cute lips. The rays caress your face in a way he only does in the privacy of his room, with you gently pinned underneath him.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Itadori grins, handing his phone to you. “Can you check if I’m going the right way real quick?”

You lean forward and blink against Megumi’s strong arm that’s suddenly in front of you, still half-asleep.

“Don’t tell her to do it, dipshit, she just woke up.” He glares at Itadori, taking the phone from him instead and taps the screen a few times. With his head leaning to the other side once he rests back into his seat, he wordlessly makes space for you to rest yours on his shoulder again and you do so happily.

“You were supposed to make a U-turn ten minutes ago.” Megumi deadpans as you yawn, still drowsy from your nap.

“Oh fuck.”

The four of you are finally at the picnic site, after what seems like driving for hours.

“Megumi!” You bound up to him like an overexcited puppy, and he bites back a laugh at your eagerness to show him whatever you found. “Close your eyes.”

If it was Itadori or Nobara, he would have definitely asked “Why?” before they pulled another one of their endless pranks on him but since it's you, he shuts them.

There’s a cool sensation that glides against his ear, and he realizes it’s a petal. You’re tucking a flower into his hair, you must’ve found it under the tree where they parked. His eyes flutter open and he’s met with your familiar, adoring stare that never fails to twist his stomach into knots.

“It’s a peach blossom. Pretty, um, like you.” You mumble, suddenly shy as he gazes down at you with the barest hint of a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

No one’s around, Itadori and Nobara have long gone to find the perfect spot to set down the blanket, and Megumi brushes a quick kiss to your temple.

“Thank you.”

The peace of the afternoon is short lived when he walks with you to meet up with Nobara and Itadori, who have somehow attracted a group of ducks from the nearby pond. One nips at Itadori’s butt, who narrowly manages to dodge it while Nobara is holding her Balenciaga purse high out of the feathered menaces reaches. “Stop that, this was almost two hundred thousand yen!”

Megumi rolls his eyes and barely manages to stifle a snort. He holds your own purse that he’s been carrying this whole time steady for you as you dig into it and whip a paper grocery bag out.

“I have lettuce, don't worry guys!”

His midnight blue eyes glint with fondness as they follow your figure when you bend down to feed the ducks and kindly lead them away from the food that’s sprawled out on the picnic blanket, talking to them like you would with a baby kitten.

Oh he’s going to kiss you breathless later.

Nobara and Itadori nearly fall to your feet. “Our savior!” They cry in unison and you laugh, patting them both on the back. Your best friend then gets up and smacks Itadori with the side of her bag.

“I told you we should have left the chips in the car! Those ducks could have choked to death and it’d all be your fault.”

Your other best friend pouts. “But they were pizza flavored, I wanted to savor them under the flowers!”

“Ew.” Nobara says, already shoving one of them in her mouth, and she holds another chip up to your lips for you to try. “They taste gross, right?”

You chew thoughtfully, and sneak your hand into the open bag to get a few to feed Megumi. “Hm. Could be better.”

“Yeah it's kind of lacking,” Megumi says, his soft lips brushing against your fingers as he takes his another cautious bite.

“Don’t you three say that with your mouth full!”

─────────

So the car got towed.

Gojo’s fuming and Megumi’s pretty sure he’s going to try grounding the four of you, but with a simple bribe of his favorite zunda and cream kikufuku courtesy of your culinary skills his forgiveness is easily attainable.

He absentmindedly wonders if you knead the delicious dough you make from scratch the same way you randomly pinch his cheeks.

The glow of the passing streetlights behind him reflects in your eyes like a thousand tiny, shooting stars and when he looks into them he swears he can see the Milky Way. They’re fighting to stay open after you tiredly slump onto the train’s last empty seat, sandwiched between Nobara and Itadori’s already dozing forms who were scrolling through nail art ideas with you just moments before as he occasionally made comments when you prompted him to, “Would look cute on you” and “That color’s nice” falling from his lips. His eyes soften as he looks at you.

“Gumi…” You softly murmur and his head perks up.

“Yeah?” He leans in closer to hear you, and bites back a chuckle as you mumble something unintelligible. “It’s okay, go to sleep. I’ll stand here and watch you guys.”

“M’kay. ‘Night ‘night, love you.” Is all you whisper before passing out.

“I love you too,” Megumi mutters under his breath, low enough so that it falls on no one else’s ears in the car. You can’t hear him because you fell asleep before you could, but he doesn’t care, he says it anyway and hopes that as his words linger in the air it brings you sweet dreams.

He notices the faint goosebumps on your thighs and takes off his jacket in one swift motion to cover your lap. You’re wearing a shorter skirt than usual today, and like hell he’d let you freeze because of the train’s air conditioning.

His burning eyes flick up from your unaware, adorably blissful face to shoot a scathing glare at the man who’s been glancing your way since you got on the train, and steps closer to shield you entirely from his view. The intimidated stranger looks away quickly, and a small, victorious smirk makes it way across his lips.

That’s right you were his girl, and he’s going to make damn sure everyone knows that.

[meganegatari]

read part two here! series masterlist here!

currently thinking about how modern!ellie would be such a like “hallway crush” type…OKAY WAIT i have an idea, picture this: it's the first day of classes, and you're on your way to your university's astrophysics lecture hall and see her, walking briskly to her destination, with big black headphones (listening to divorced dad rock, of course) seemingly in her own world, not even aware of how cool she is in the moment. she passes you, walking only a little faster than you are, but it gives you time to check her out a bit. she's wearing some dark wash jeans and a flannel with a chunky jacket over top, her beat up bag slung over one shoulder(because shes just too kewl for skewl), and her signature worn black converse. as you follow her into the hall, (not being creepy, you're just on the same path. oh, seems like you're classmates too…oop!), she enters first, then holds the door for you as you file in behind her, looking back, meeting your eyes, and giving you a small nod as a greeting. (one of those that guys do, like when they tilt their chin up for a split-second as a bro greeting, UGH THE ENGLISH EXPLANATIONS ARE ESCAPING ME i do not know the ways of the men but yall have seen that nod thing they do, right?) that would happen in a fraction of a moment and you'd go to smile back at this beautiful stranger, but by the time you collect yourself she's already looking forward again. oh and then the two of you would part ways and sit on opposite sides of the room, however she'd still be on your mind…and whenever you cast glances her way, she'd seem interested in what the professor is talking about, but you'd then realize you're staring and bring your eyes back to your own laptop....

☆: hi, i have SO many ideas for drabbles and stuff but they rarely translate onto paper how I imagine them to go, but I'm sure that comes with time and practice, but for now take this silly idea I jotted down as it crossed my mind...I need her so bad, wish she was real 😔 (half hoping a situation like this happens to me LMAO...but crushes are too much stress....) BUTTTTT this drabble thingy got them creative juices flowing, and now im highly tempted to make a series or more parts to hallway crush ellie ...I say that every time but this idea's bouncing around in my skull and won't leave so who knows...

[femmenature]

Is it Casual now?

The writer's first language is not English, so any constructive criticism on grammar is welcome!

Pairings: Adult Van Palmer/Vanessa Plamer x fem! Reader.

Summary: You and Van have been hanging out for a while, nothing serious. Until you find two glasses on the counter and can't hide your jealousy, which leads to a conversation full of statements.

Warnings: Mentions of cancer, swearing, arguing, mentions of sex.

-

Van and you met at her video store. You wanted a movie, and it was one of the few places, if not the only one, that rented any kind of film you wanted to watch. What you didn't expect when you walked in was to see her, a stunning redhead, leaning against the counter. Greeting you with a smile, offering you help and recommendations.

"Movie night?" she asked curiously, positioning herself beside you as you scanned the shelves. "Yeah, it's cold, and I think it's going to rain. So it's the perfect night." Your voice is calm, only because you're focused on making her notice that, you were trying to be cool. Inside, your nerves were eating you up. "Are you going to watch it with your partner?" Your eyes flicked up to hers. She was trying to figure out if you were in a relationship, or was it just your imagination? "I don't have a partner, but I guess it would be ideal for the plan."

"Is it really cheeky of me to ask if you want to watch that movie with me?" A smile spread across her lips as your eyes continued to scan hers. As if she weren't real. "Yes, I think you're cheeky for asking, but it doesn't mean I won't say yes."

And it was there, in that exact moment, that you fell for her. You connected so well, as if you'd known each other for years. And usually, on a first date, there's no intimacy... but that wasn't the case with her. Can you blame you? She looked beautiful, and her eyes begged for your body, so it was practically impossible for you not to give in to her. And it wasn't the last time; it was one of many. On the third date, you two cleared the air. She was pretty sure she just wanted to be casual. Get together once in a while and have sex. That was fine with you.

"I know you probably had no other intentions with me besides this," she scribbled, pointing at the two of you in bed after you'd been together. "But I also wanted to remind you that I'm not interested in anything more than sex. And don't get me wrong, you're every person's dream. But I just can't." Your hands caressed her as she explained her point. You weren't going to deny it; you were interested in being more than that. But as long as you didn't lose contact with her, you were going to accept it. "I know, Van. You don't have to justify yourself. I'm fine like this, with you. It's not a problem for me. I wasn't looking for anything serious, either." Liar.

The days passed, each time the aftercare sessions got longer, the hugs warmer, and the kisses sweeter. But you suppose it's just your imagination, trying to play tricks on you. On the other hand, Vanessa felt her world crumble every time she saw you. Every time she wanted you to stay longer, she felt like scolding herself when she wished the movies you watched would last forever. Or when she watched you washing the cutlery, wondering what life would be like with you. She hated herself for thinking it, hated herself for letting this drag on, knowing she had cancer and everything would fall apart at any moment.

Today is another movie day, so when you got to Vanessa's house, you left your jacket on the coat rack and headed to the counter where she was, opening the fridge in search of some sodas. She's wearing a white t-shirt, a short-sleeved striped shirt, and some silver necklaces. You were so caught up in staring at her that you completely ignored the two used glasses on the counter. Two. Two? Why two? Maybe someone else came. It's okay, it's just casual. Or so you told yourself to ignore the dagger in your chest. I mean, can't she hide it a little more, out of respect? Well, you're probably overthinking it too much.

"Hey, is everything okay in that mind of yours?" Her voice woke you from your deep thoughts, and you looked into her eyes. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"We could watch The Goonies, what do you think?" She found your little transgression odd, but sometimes you were in a different world, so she let it go. "Yeah, whatever you want," your voice sounded listless; it's a little hard for you not to react to what you saw. "Okay, there's definitely something wrong with you, spit it out." Her hands rest on the counter as she turns her head slightly in question, waiting for your answer.

"Nothing, it's just stupid. I'm in no position to be upset about this." Her eyebrows furrow. She's genuinely confused. What the hell are you talking about? "Come on, let's not play guessing games. I have no idea what you're talking about." Your look settled on the two dirty glasses, then back up to her face. "Did someone come?" She followed your gaze and let out a small, muffled laugh. "Hold on right there, Sherlock. Is this about the stupid glasses?"

It infuriated you how stupid she makes you sound, while she looks so peaceful. And she is, because she didn't do anything, but she likes seeing you like this. As wrong as it is. "I think it's totally understandable what I mean. And that it's not stupid, that's obvious. But it's okay, we're nothing, so this argument is totally useless. I just find it in bad taste that you leave it so clear." She rolls her eyes as she rounds the counter, walking over to where you're standing. "I forgot to wash them, no one came. And you know we can't...get jealous, we agreed on something."

"Well, I think it's wrong for us to watch movies together then. Let's just have sex. And don't touch me after that either. Don't look me in the eyes with that sparkle of yours. Don't smile like everything I say is amazing. And don't laugh at my jokes either. Don't do the things that made me fall in love with you." Your words came out faster than you intended. And after your confession, there was an almost eternal silence. You don't dare look at her; all you want is for the earth to swallow you up.

Even if you didn't look at her, she didn't stop. Your words hit her straight in the heart. Of course she's in love with you too. You're the only thing that can make her genuinely laugh, making her forget everything, even her illness. But she can't help but think she's condemned you. "You don't know how selfishly I wished to hear those words. Believe me, I'm the happiest woman in the world. I mean, look at you, listen to yourself. You're perfect, and I don't want to steal years of your life from someone like me." Her hand gently caresses your cheek, making you look at her. Her eyes are crystal clear, but her smile never leaves her face. "Why would I waste it? Why do you say that, Vanessa? Why won't you let me be with you?" Her hand disappears, and you feel a void in your skin. God, you're completely lost without her.

"I don't want you to despair or get distressed. I just want you to listen to what I'm going to tell you and not lose your cool." Her breathing becomes labored, even though she tries to neutralize it. You're completely confused. What does she mean? "I... I have cancer. And it doesn't look good, not at all good." Your fucking world fell apart. You don't blame her. How can you blame her? You feel stupid, pushing her so hard, tying to be with her while she was worried about hurting you. "I'm so sorry, Van. Please forgive me for putting you on the spot arguing over something so stupid. I had no idea," she shakes her head, her eyes never leaving yours. "Don't apologize. I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I feel stupidly weak or like a burden when I'm like this. The only thing I didn't want was this, to get to this point where I drag you into my misery. I don't want you to suffer. If you walk away now, it'll be better for you."

"Are you fucking kidding me? You want me to leave you alone instead of enjoying whatever's left of you? Are you crazy? Van, I'm in love with you. It was a privilege to know you, not bad luck. All I'm thinking right now is that I want to spend the rest of the days in the most extraordinary way, with you. That's all I ever want. So don't make me leave you, don't make me leave you alone because I'm not going to." Your voice cracks and a few tears fall from your eyes, and she's no exception. "Shit, what did I do to deserve you? You... even though it sounds selfish of me, you made everything easier. I think less about my illness. When I'm with you, I feel like we'll be together for years, watching every damn movie in the videostore. With you, it's a world apart. And I'm so grateful for that. I thank you for giving me the most genuine smiles and the most beautiful moments of my life. And really, I'd love to live the last few with you, if you want."

As you nodded, she approached you to give you a sweet, slow kiss, salty with shared tears. If there's anything eternal, it's your love. And that's the most beautiful thing death can give, since after it, your union will also last forever.

-

(I didn't reread it, so there may be errors)

I repeat, if you notice any spelling mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me! Thanks for reading 🥰

[wolverigrl]

Party (1)

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: Sooo this part was written right after clubbing, and I may got carried away, which why I divided it into two parts. The next part should be online on Monday or Tuesday! So stay tuned! :)

Warnings: smut (not completely detailed), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), mentions of alcohol, some swearing, mentions of pregnancy

Not proofread!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

---------------------------------------------------

It's happening. I'm officially a year older today. Honestly, I don't even feel the change. Except for maybe the overwhelming sense of everything right now - the music, the laughter, the champagne that seems to be in my hand all the time - and him. Especially him. Hugh.

The night feels like a dream, but it's real - my birthday, my party. I rented this entire club for the occasion, and it's filled to the brim with friends, the people I care about, the ones who've been there through everything. Some are people I used to only see on screens, in magazines, but now they're real, they're here, and they're celebrating me. It's surreal.

The cast of The Greatest Showman showed up early, and I've barely had amoment to myself. Zac and Zendaya are dancing like they don't have a care in the world. Keala's by the bar, harmonizing with the DJ's set like only she can. Everywhere I turn, someone new is pulling me in for a hug, giving me a gift, toasting to me and wishing me all the best.

"Happy birthday, y/n!" Another friend comes up to me - one of the faces I vaguely recognize through the blur of champagne and flashing lights. They hand me a beautifully wrapped gift, and I accept it with a smile, although my mind is elsewhere. I'm grateful, of course, but the attention, the noise, the constant flow of people - it's overwhelming.

But my eyes always drift back to him. Hugh.

I catch a glimpse of him near the bar, his tall, broad frame leaning casually as he sips martini, talking to Ryan. The way the dim lights catch his features - sharp jawline, eyes that sparkle with a mischievous glint - it's like time slows down when I see him. My heart speeds up, a familiar heat spreading through me. It's not the alcohol. It's him.

I can't stop thinking about him, not tonight. There's something about the way he looks, how he moves in that perfectly tailored suit that drives me crazy. Maybe it's because I've had one too many glasses of champagne, or maybe it's just that he's Hugh and he's everything I want right now. I'm feeling it, that hormonal pull that still won't quit. It's like I'm on fire, and he's the only one who can put it out.

Our eyes meet across the room. A slow, easy smile spreads across his lips, and I feel a rush of heat flood through me. God, he's gorgeous. I feel myself gravitating toward him before I even realize what I'm doing weaving through the crowd.

"Enjoying your party, love?" His voice is low when I reach him, the deep itmbre sending shivers down my spine. He leans in, his breath warm against my ear, and I inhale the familiar scent of him - something earthy, masculine, mixed with the faintest hint of martini.

"I would be enjoying it a lot more if you weren't all the way over here." I murmur, my fingers finding the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer.

Hugh laughs softly, his hand sliding around my waist with such ease it feels like second nature.

"Oh, I see. Is the birthday girl feeling a little. neglected?"

"Maybe." I tease, but the truth is, it's not just that. It's everything. I feel wound up, my body buzzing from the alcohol, the excitement, and from him. The way his hand rests so possessively on my waist. The way his eyes darken just a bit when I lean in closer and my chest brushing against his.

He's trying to play it cool, but I know him too well. He feels it too, this spark between us that's been burning hotter as the night goes on. And right now, I can't think of anything but us.

I press my body against his, my lips just grazing his ear as I whisper.

"You know, I've been thinking about you all night."

His grip tightens on my waist, his thumb brushing my hip in a way that makes me bite my lip.

"Oh is that so?" His voice is teasing, but there's an edge to it now, something darker and more primal.

"Mmhmm" I hum, letting my hands drift up his chest, feeling the firmness of his body beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. My fingers toy with his collar, brushing against his skin.

"I can't stop thinking about how good you look in this suit."

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound hat vibrates through my body.

"You're playing with fire, baby."

"Oh I like the burn." I grin.

For a moment, we're just standing here, locked in this invisible dance of tension and desire, the noise of he party fading into the background. My fingers slip into his hair, tugging lightly, and I can feel the way his breath catches in response. He doesn't move, just looks at me with that slow smoldering gaze that makes my knees feel weak.

"Y/n.." he murmurs, his voice a little rough now, like he's barely holding himself back. "We're at your birthday party. You do realize that?"

I grin, pressing my hips against him as I lean up to whisper in his ear, "And what do you wanna do about that?"

His hand grips my waist tighter pulling me even closer, his mouth so close to mine I can feel his breath against my lips.

"You're trouble, you know that?"

"Only for you, baby."

Before I can say anything else, the music changes, and I feel the beat thrum through my body, pulling me onto the dance floor. Hugh follows, his hands on my hips as we move together.

Dancing with him feels like the most natural thing in the world. Every sway of my hips, every turn, it's like our bodies are in sync, perfectly attuned to each other. I can feel the heat of his hands on my skin, even through the fabric of my dress, and it makes me ache for more.

I turn in his arms, pressing my back against his chest and grinding against him as the music pulses around us. His hands tighten on my hips pulling me back harder against him, and I can feel his breath on my neck, hot and heavy.

"Y/n.." he whispers in my ear, voice strained but playful.

"You're making it very hard to be a gentleman right now."

A wicked smile curves my lips. I glance over my shoulder, giving him a sultry look. "Who said I want you to be a gentleman?"

His eyes darken, the playful glint replaced by something more primal. He presses a kiss to my neck, just below my ear, sending goosebumps down my arms. I turn in his arms, facing him fully, and pull him into another kiss, this one deeper, more intense, oblivious to the crowd dancing around us

He groans softly into the kiss, his hands sliding down my sides and his fingers gripping my hips like he's trying to keep some semblance of control. But I can feel him losing it, just as much as I am. The way his body presses into mine, the heat between us - it's almost unbearable.

The music blurs into the background, and all I can think about is the feel of him behind me. His body moving with mine, the way his hands seem to leave trails of fire on my skin. I look up, our lips just inches apart.

"We should stop.." he murmurs though his grip on me doesn't loosen. If anything, he pulls me closer.

I tilt my head up, brushing my lips against his in the barest of touches, teasing.

"Do you really want to?"

He doesn't answer with words. Instead, his mouth crashes against mine, and I lose myself in the taste of him. My hands are in his hair, tugging him closer, and I can feel the way his body tenses against mine, like he's holding back everything he wants to do.

I know we're still in the middle of the dance floor, but I don't care. Right now, it's just him and me, lost in the heat of the moment. I deepen the kiss, letting my tongue slide against hus, and he groans into my mouth, pulling me even closer, if that's even possible.

After what feels like an eternity, we finally pull away from the dance floor. My head is spinning, but not only from the champagne. I grab his hand, pulling him toward the photobooth in the corner of the club.

"Come on, let's do something fun!" I say with a playful grin, tugging him inside.

He laughs, following me into the cramped space. The curtain closes pehind us, and I waste no time climbing onto his lap, my legs straddling his.

"Smile for the camera!" I say, sticking my tongue out at him just as the first flash goes off.

We make silly faces for the next few shots - sticking our tongues out crossing our eyes - but I can feel the tension building between us again. My body is still humming from the dancing, the closeness, the way his hands feel on my thighs, even through the fabric of my dress.

I lean in for the next shot, kissing his cheek, but it doesn't stop there. The kiss lingers, my lips trailing down to his jaw, his neck, and I can feel the way his breath hitches beneath me.

"Love.." he breathes, his hands sliding up my thighs, gripping them tightly. "You're really trying to drive me crazy tonight, aren't you?"

smile against his skin, my lips brushing his ear as I whisper, "Maybe."

The camera flashes again, but we're not paying attention anymore. My mouth finds his, and the kiss quickly turns heated, desperate. His hands slide up my sides, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. I can feel him hard against me, and it only makes me want him more.

I grind against him, and he groans softly, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I know I'II have bruises tomorrow. But I don't care. All I care about is the feel of him beneath me, the way his mouth moves against mine and the way his hands are everywhere at once.

We're lost in each other, so caught in the heat of the moment that I barely register the curtain ripping open. It takes a second for reality to hit, but when it does, it's not subtle.

"Hey! No funny business in there!" a voice teases, giggling as it echoes in the small booth.

I freeze, still straddling Hugh, our lips inches apart, our breathing heavy. I look up and find Chris standing there with his brother Scott, both grinning like they've just caught us in the act - because, well, they pretty much have.

"Really, guys?" I groan, burying my face in Hugh's neck in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. Hugh chuckles, his chest vibrating beneath me, still catching his breath.

Chris gives me an exaggerated wink. "What? Thought we'd come join the party. The booth's big enough for four, right?"

"Get out of here, man!" Hugh says with a laugh, shaking his head, though he's still holding onto me like he has no intention of letting go. His hands remain firm on my waist and his body warm beneath mine. Scott leans against the doorway of the booth, grinning. "You know, we're happy for you two, but maybe save the PDA for after the birthday cake?"

I roll my eyes and slide off Hugh's lap, standing up and adjusting my dress, trying not to look too flustered.

"Fine, fine. The booth is yours!"

Hugh stands up behind me, smoothing down his suit and running a hand through his hair. He's got that mischievous glint in his eyes, though one that tells me this is far from over.

"Have fun!" he says, stepping out of the booth, his hand slipping into mine as we head back toward the party. I squeeze his fingers, unable to hide the grin on my face. But as we walk away, I feel the heat between us still simmering beneath the surface. It's like every brush of his hand against mine, every glance he gives me, is charged with electricity. I don't think either of us is done with what we started.

We slip into a quieter area of the club, tucked away from the noise of the party.

There's a small storage room just off the side of the main hallway, dimly lit, the perfect place to catch our breath and maybe finish what we started.

Inside the storage room, it's cramped and cluttered, a stark contrast to the opulent club just outside. The air smells faintly of cleaning products and dust. Shelves ine the walls, stacked with supplies - boxes, extra bottles of liquor, random equipment that looks untouched for months. There's a small, rickety table in the corner, just big enough for me to sit on, though it Iooks like it could collapse at any moment.

Hugh's hands are on me the second the door clicks shut. His lips find mine in a fierce, hungry kiss, and the world around us fades into a blur of heat and need. His fingers grip my tips, pulling me against him, and can feel the hardness of him through his pants, pressing insistently against me, The urgency between us is undeniable, like we've been holding back all night and can't wait another second.

He guides me backward, and stumble slightly as my back hits the edge of the small table, my breath catching. His mouth leaves a scorching trail along my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin where my shoulder meets my collarbone. I shiver, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

"I need you." I whisper, my voice breathy and desperate.

His response is a low growl vibrating against my skin. "God, y/n.. I need you too. I've needed you all night."

With one swift motion, he lifts me onto the table, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. The table creaks beneath me, unsteady from our combined weight, but neither of us cares. His hands slide up my thighs, pushing my dress higher, bunching it around my hips.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me." he murmurs against my ear, his voice thick with desire. His nands grip my waist, and his lips brush my neck again, leaving a trail of heat wherever he touches.

"I've been thinking about you.. imagining this.. every second of tonight."

A soft moan escapes my lips as his fingers tease the edge of my panties, and I arch my back, pressing against him. "Hugh please.."

Hugh's mouth crashes back onto mine swallowing my words. He fumbles with his belt, the leather slipping through the loops with a soft hiss, and the sound alone makes my pulse race. I can feel the tension in his body, the way his hands shake slightly with need, and it drives me wild.

He pulls my panties to the side, and I gasp as his fingers slide against me, teasingly testing.

"Fuck. You're so wet." he whispers, his voice hoarse. His fingers dip inside me briefly, making me gasp.

"And all for me?"

"Only for you baby.." I manage to say parely able to form the words through the haze of desire.

I need you, Hugh. Now."

With a groan, he frees himself from his pants, and I feel the hot, hard length of him pressing against my thigh. His fingers dig into my hips as he positions himself at my entrance, and I bite my lip, already rembling with anticipation.

"Tell me what you want." he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. "Say it."

"I want you." I breathe, my voice shaking with need.

"I want you to fuck me."

He pushes inside me slowly, inch by inch, and my head falls back as a moan escapes my lips. The sensation of him filling me is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretches me and takes me.

"Fucking hell, y/n." he groans, his forehead pressed against mine as he bottoms out inside me.

"You feel...so fucking good."

The table creaks beneath us, swaying slightly from our movements, but I barely notice. My legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he begins to move slow at first, then harder, faster, until the rhythm of his thrusts matches the beat of the music still thudding through the walls. With every movement, I feel the tension building inside me, winding tighter and tighter until l'm on the verge of breaking. Hugh's hands roam my body, gripping my thighs my hips, sliding up to cup my breasts through my dress. His lips find mine again, his tongue tangling with mine as he thrusts into me with a desperation that mirrors my own.

"You make me feel so good.." I whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders.

"Don't stop... please, don't stop.."

His hand slides down to grip my ass pulling me harder against him as he thrusts deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I love you, y/n." he groans, his voice rough with need. "I fucking love you."

"I love you, Hugh." I whisper, my body trembling as I hold onto him for dear life.

"I love you so much."

We're completely lost in each other now, the world around us disappearing as we move together and the table creaking loudly beneath us.

At one point, I hear something fall - a bottle or maybe a box knocked off one of the shelves - but neither of us cares. We're too far gone, too wrapped up in the heat of the moment to think about anything else.

His thrusts become more erratic, harder, faster, and I feel the tension inside me snap.

My climax crashes through me, sending waves of pleasure rippling through every nerve in my body. I cry out, my nails raking down his back as I hold on, riding the wave of ecstasy.

Hugh groans loudly as he follows me over the edge, his body tensing as he thrusts one last time, his release hot and deep inside me. We're both shaking, breathless, our bodies pressed so tightly together it's like we're one.

For at few moments, we - just stay like that, holding each other with our foreheads pressed together as we try to catch our breath. The room is silent now, save for the sound of our breathing, the faint thump of music still vibrating through the walls.

After a long moment, Hugh pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and intense as he looks at me. He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips.

"You're amazing." he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

I smile, my heart still racing. "So are you."

He kisses me again, but this time slower and sweeter, like he's savoring the moment. Then, with a soft laugh he pulls back and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief.

"Here, love." he says with a grin, his back pocket and pulling out a handkerchief. It's such a gentlemanly gesture, one that makes me laugh softly. He helps me clean up, his touch careful and respectful, and I can't help but feel a rush of affection for him in that moment.

"Always prepared, huh?" I tease, running a hand through his tousled hair, which is still slightly damp with sweat from our heated encounter.

"I like to think so." he replies with a wink, adjusting his pants and redoing his belt.

He then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer while kissing softly my forehead.

"You okay?" he murmurs, his voice soft.

smile, my heart still pounding 'More than okay.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to my forehead before slowly puling away and helping me straighten out my dress. We both fumble with our clothes trying to make ourselves look at least somewhat presentable, but I can't stop myself from smoothing his shirt, adjusting his tie, and brushing a hand through his hair.

"You're fussing." He says with a lazy smile while his hands find my waist again. "They're going to know we've been up to something."

"I don't care!" I laugh softly, though I can feel my cheeks flushing. I tug on his shirt collar one last time, making sure everything is back in place.

Then, he looks at me with that familiar softness in his eyes, the intensity from earlier replaced with something deeper. His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin, and for a moment, we just stand there in the dim light, staring at each other like the rest of the world doesn't exist.

"What if you were pregnant?"

...

- to be continued -

---------------------------------------------------

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Next part

[blushsturns]

perv!matt x innocent!reader ♡

˖ continuation of this!

˖ masterlist is here!

˖ title: scored

˖ w/c: 2562

matt picked you up at your house exactly at 7pm. when you opened the door, he almost damn near fainted at the sight of you; white and pink floral dress that hugged your curves and showed the perfect amount of cleavage, those pretty heels that made your legs look so incredibly sexy and long, your hair curled loosely and draped over your shoulders and a gorgeous heart pendant necklace set firmly against your neck. he couldn’t stop staring at you, his eyes taking in every single little detail about your appearance. you felt your cheeks flush violently and warming up just from the way his eyes were glued to your body as if he was taking mental screenshots in his brain to remember forever. he would, too considering he already saved all of your instagram photos and screenshot any snapchats you’d send him to his camera roll to look at for later.

he was absolutely in awe of you and couldn’t take his eyes off you. matt cleaned up real nice too, a pair of his nicest jeans and a fitted white tee. he looked comfortable, handsome, and really fucking sexy. “sorry, i’m gonna be blunt when i say this, but god damn do you look fucking amazing.” he spoke breathlessly, his own cheeks turning a bright shade of pink just by the sudden confidence he had to announce that outloud to you. not that it wasn’t completely obvious, given he stood there googly eyed and his mouth practically watering just by staring at you.

“thanks, handsome. you clean up nicely yourself.” you ran your pink polished index finger down his shirt, his eyes watching your every move the entire time causing his body to tense up just from the feeling of your finger running down his chest. “now are you gonna take me out, or what?” you flashed him a small smirk, loving the way even the smallest touch could drive him absolutely insane.

he gulped nervously, nodding his head and trying to regain his confidence back, but god dammit was he completely and utterly whipped for you. “of course. i have only been waiting for this day since, well forever.” he let out a soft chuckle at his own words before offering you his arm. you gladly accepted it, linking your arm with his and closing the front door behind you with your free hand.

when he lead you over to his car, he opened up the passenger side door for you. “after you, pretty girl.” he flashed you a small smile, allowing you to get into the car. when you got into his car, you noticed one of his jackets sitting in the backseat of his car. you smiled to yourself as you turned your head back to stare straight ahead, remembering the conversation you had with him about how he could keep you warm. his jacket was definitely one of the options.

the drive to dinner downtown wasn’t awkward at all. you talked to matt about how busy the coffee shop has been and how you wished you didn’t have to work so many hours, but you loved working there and getting to know all of your favorite regular’s favorite drinks. matt talked about how nick and chris kept teasing him for hours about the date you two were going on and how they both were surprised matt finally got the courage to ask you out. you thought this was funny and quite ironic because even though you didn’t tell him this, you weren’t sure how he managed the courage to do it either.

while he was driving, you noticed that he would stare at you any chance he could get. it was almost like he couldn’t take his eyes off you, even when he was driving. his eyes gazed over to your exposed thighs, your dress had rose up only slightly while you were sitting, but from the angle he was sitting he could discreetly admire how smooth your skin looked. he so desperately wanted to reach over and touch you, but he couldn’t. he had to keep it cool and collected, but all he could think about sometimes was the fact that he has in fact been between those same set of thighs, devouring you like he was a starved man.

you’d catch him staring and he’d immediately pull his gaze away from you and back to the road ahead, his cheeks turning a crimson red at the fact that he got caught staring. he couldn’t help it; you were so god damn beautiful.

after a couple more minutes, you were finally in the heart of your beloved city. you loved it here. if you could move out into the city, you would. it’s the sense of community, the feeling of belonging that drew you into the city aesthetic vibes. matt pulled up to the restaurant and go out of the car, moving around to the passenger side to open the door for you and offered you his hand. you flashed him a sweet smile and gladly took his hand as he helped you out of the car.

before he handed his keys over to the valet, he opened up the door to the backseat and pulled out his jacket. “may i?” he asked you with his eyebrow raised upward as he awaited your reply.

you nodded your head with a widening smile, your heart feeling like it was literally swooning. what was wrong with you and were you actually developing feelings for matt, one of your absolute best friends who just so happens to be fantasized with you? you allowed him to help you put the jacket on your body, immediately using your hands to cling it to your chest and taking in the warmth and intoxicating scent of his expensive smelling cologne.

when you both stepped foot into the restaurant, your stomach immediately growled when the aroma of italian food wafted throughout your nostrils. “i’m starved.” you practically whined quietly to matt as you followed him and the waiter over to your table over to the back of the restaurant with the most beautiful view of the city around you. you’ve been to this restaurant before, but something about tonight made this time feel special.

matt was an absolute gentleman the entire night. he let you rant about work, your studies for nursing school and how exhausting it’s becoming, and how your friends have been kind of awful lately. you admitted you’d much rather hang out with nick, matt, and chris anyway. they were way better company than anyone else and you always felt so safe and comfortable with them.

the food was absolutely amazing and you had a couple glasses of wine. matt declined on the wine, saying he had precious cargo in the car that he had to make sure gets home safe and sound. you could tell how protective he was of you, his eyes never steering away from yours the entire night. he was interested to hear everything you had to say and allowed you to speak about whatever you wanted. you’ve never encountered that with any other man before.

you asked matt about him and how things have been going with him. he told you about how stressful it’s been to come up with ideas creating content to put out every week. you laughed at the jokes he told you about chris and nick fighting last night and how chris was pretty upset about it and didn’t wanna sleep alone so he ended up sleeping in matt’s room. you thought it was so sweet and warned your heart how much matt loved his brothers, even if they got on his nerves most of the time.

when the check came, matt immediately grabbed it so you couldn’t see the exact total. “i’m the one who asked you out on this date, let me at least pay for the bill.”

you rolled your eyes playfully, but secretly finding that type of thing absolutely attractive and really fucking sweet. “fine, but i’m treating you to ice cream. got it?” you felt a little tipsy from the wine, but it was more of a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach. or maybe that was just feelings.

he was fine with that, allowing you to use his arm again to hold onto as you both walked a block over to the ice cream shoppe. it wasn’t too far, and you were able to walk on the way back with your ice cream in hand.

when you both arrived, he didn’t even have to ask you what flavor you wanted; he already knew.

“hi, can i have one chocolate ice cream and one..” he looked over at you, a widening, proud smile on his face. “and a superman ice cream, please.”

he paid for the ice cream and opened the door for you as you both walked out and into the cool, crisp air of the city around you. the walk was quiet, but comfortable. you both took your time, walking in sync as you licked your ice cream cone. you kept noticing out of the corner of your eye that matt couldn’t stop staring. he watched as your tongue flicked against the cool sensation of the ice cream before parting your lips to take more of the ice cream into your mouth and swallowing it. you let out a soft moan at the delectable taste, licking over your lips that were now stained blue. your tongue probably was, too.

his eyes widened as he heard you, gulping nervously and clearing his throat to try and appear nonchalant, even though the look on your face, the way your tongue worked as you ate your ice cream and the sounds that were falling from your mouth caused a sudden rush straight to his cock.

you knew it was affecting him too and you liked being a tease. any little thing that you did got to him, especially when it came to things like this. “sorry, it’s just really good. thank you for remembering my favorite ice cream flavor.” you licked over you lips once again, a soft giggle leaving your lips. “hey, is my tongue blue?” you flashed him your tongue, that was coated with blue substance from the ice cream colors melting together.

he continued to stare at you while walking alongside you, nodding his head and letting out a soft chuckle at the sight of your tongue. “it is, but it’s cute, like you.”

your cheeks turned a bright shade of pink at his words, flashing him a small smile. “well thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.”

when you both arrived to the car and matt got his keys back from the valet, you had finished your ice cream. the sudden realization that the night was already almost over and quite honestly, you didn’t want the night to end.

he opened up the passenger door for you, allowing you to get in. he had been such a gentlemen all night and it was the sweetest fucking thing you’ve ever witnessed.

the drive back home was peaceful and comfortable. matt made a couple small jokes along the way home, making you giggle at how ridiculously funny he was, even though his jokes were tame.

when he pulled up into his driveway, he parked the car and immediately turned over to look at you. “did you have a good time?”

you nodded your head, flashing him a small smile, using both of your hands to keep his jacket clung tightly against your body. “i really did. thanks for taking me out, matt. i had a really good time.”

he grinned widely, nodding his head at your words. “i did too. now come on, let me walk you over to your house.”

matt opened the car door for you and offered his hand once again, which you gladly accepted and allowed him to help you out of the car. you walked a couple steps over to your house next door to his and once you both made it to your doorstep, you exhaled a deep breath, turning to look at him so you both were now face to face. “genuinely, thank you, matt. i had an amazing time.”

“you deserve it all, pretty girl. i’m glad i could take you out.”

“oh, here, let me give you your jacket-“

you were about to start taking his jacket off when matt stopped you, placing his hand on top of yours, his voice becoming more firm, his ocean blue eyes staring directly into yours. “no, don’t. seriously. i want you to keep it. it looks better on you, anyway.”

your cheeks were insanely warm, his comment causing butterflies to erupt in the pit of your stomach. you bit down onto your bottom lip, pulling your gaze away for a moment before averting your eyes back over to him. he stared at you with so much adoration filling his gaze. you could feel your heart beat begin to rapidly quicken. “well, then can i give you something so you don’t have to go home empty handed?”

his eyebrow raised up in a curious manner as he stared at you, nodding his head slowly. “you don’t have to do that, but now i’m curious. sure, what is it?”

you flashed him a widening smirk, nodding your head and pursed your lips together. you suddenly had the courage to do something that was on your mind all night. if he’s letting you keep his jacket, why not give him something he always loved to take from your bedroom drawer? slowly you began to move your hands underneath your dress, your fingers moving against the hem of your panties and began to slowly slide them down your legs.

matt watched you in complete and utter shock, watching your every move with his eyes widening and his mouth agape as you bent down to pull the lacy panties down completely and off your body. you stood back up with the panties in your hand and immediately grabbed one of matt’s hands to place the pair of panties into his palm securely and enclosed his hand around them. your smirk only widened as he stared down at the pink panties in his hand as he held onto them, a shaky breath exhaling from his chest and out past his lips.

“will you keep these? for me?” you leaned in closer to him to reach his ear, your hot and heavy breath lingering against his ear.

all he could do was nod his head slowly, gulping nervously as your body pressed up against his for a brief moment. you moved your head to place your lips against his stubble cheek and kissing it gently before pulling away from him and flashing him a teasing smirk. you lifted your hand up into a wave, your eyes staying locked onto his.

“goodnight, lover boy. thank you for an amazing night.”

without waiting for a reply from matt, the front door closed. all matt could do was stand there in complete and utter shock due to the fact that not only has he finally scored his first date with you, but he had a pair of your lacy pink panties that you were wearing underneath your dress the entire night.

he was absolutely, totally infatuated with you.

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𝜗𝜚 a/n:

thank you everyone for reading!! i love writing this pair so much. i have so many more ideas for this au so if you want more of them just keep spreading the love. it makes my day, i swear. i love you guys!

-nessa ღ

[blegh-110]

ii. "you told me i was pretty when i looked like a mess" | Sam Monroe

Pairing: older brother's best friend!Sam Monroe x fem!reader

Summary: Best friend’s older brother!Sam Monroe who you could always count on when you were 13 and he was 15.

Warnings: None

Word count: 976

Next Part

Your hands shook as you applied some tinted lip balm, the tube almost slipping out of your hand because of the sweat forming. 

It was the night of the school’s winter dance, and you were asked to go with a boy who was in your Spanish class. He sat in front of you and always asked to copy your homework, and you’d oblige because every single time he’d say “you’re amazing” and “what what I do without you?” And the occasional tease, “these better be right, or i'm gonna have to ask someone else.” 

It felt too good to be true when he asked you to go with him to the dance, but he was just so nice to you when you saw him. In the end, it was too good to be true when you overheard his friends ask him why he chose you and not the girl he actually liked. 

“She’s been letting me copy her homework, I thought this could be like a ‘thank you’.” 

“But it’s fucking awkward, none of us know her, our dates don’t either, and she’s not really talking. She's just there.”  

You did feel out of place the entire time. Apparently the girl he liked was friends with the other guys dates, they all ran in the same circle and you were the odd one out. While they had their inside jokes and well established friendships, you barely knew your own date. And he didn’t really bother to include you. So you did end up just sitting and listening and wishing you could partake. 

The second you found out his true reasoning to ask you out, the tears came and you wanted to go home. But how? Your date’s mother was the one to drop everyone off. Your brother was out with his girlfriend, and you knew he’d be pissed if he had to leave and pick up his crying, little sister. And the last thing you wanted was to get bombarded with questions from your parents if you did go home so early. 

You called the only person you could think of. You weren’t sure what the plan was, but you just didn’t want to be alone. 

And just seeing him, someone who you feel safe in the presence of, you run into his arms and let the tears flow. It was hard to make out from your watery explanation, but he understood what happened and held you just a little tighter. Despite his anger, there was nothing he could do. They were still in middle school and Sam was a sophmore in high school, he’d look like the loser if he went inside and beat up a kid two years younger than him. 

“Oh, god.” You said as you wiped away your tears only to see the blackness from your mascara. You could only wonder how pathetic you look. This was supposed to be a special night, and it had barely begun before it turned into the worst night of your life so far. 

“Stop that, you still look pretty.” He wipes your cheeks with his long sleeve, trying to wipe away your mascara but really just dragging it around. 

“Thanks.” You whisper, not really believing it.  

“No, I’m serious. You got that kind of Courtney Love-Hole look, y’look cool.” He leaned back to get a better look at you and smiled. You loved when he smiled, when he was happy and sweet, especially towards you. And in the moonlight, he was even more handsome.

With it being winter and cold outside, Sam gave you his jacket and slung his arm around you as he began to walk you home. You thought you could die at that very moment and be the happiest girl in the world. 

“So what should I do to whats-his-stupid-fucking-face?” He knew wasn’t going to do anything to the kid, but he wanted to lift your mood. You smiled and shook your head. Honestly, you wanted nothing to do with him but you played along.

“Just punch him real hard in the face, I want it to be swollen and ugly.” 

“Yeah, yeah that’s good. And let’s take his money, I’ll- no listen to me,” he interrupted himself at your snort and continued, “I’ll kick the back of his knees, hold him down, then you take the five dollars out of his pocket, got it?” 

You giggled as you imagined it, kicking the back of his knees. You saw him do it to your brother after he slapped the sunburn on your shoulder and that was the most you had ever laughed. You’ll never forget your brother’s shock and pointed finger to the smaller slap mark on his back, “she did it to me first, look!”

“Nah, she wouldn’t do that.” 

“And we’ll get hot chocolate with the money.” And he pointed to your favorite cafe and walked towards it. 

“Sam, wait, I don’t have any money on me right now.”

“That’s okay, it’s on me. Something good has to come out of tonight.” He dragged you to the building, and in there he bought you a hot chocolate with extra milk. Which was something you appreciated because you burned your tongue really bad drinking your hot chocolate a few weeks ago and he saw. 

What followed was some talking about movies, music, and embarrassing stories(your favorite one being that he fell off his chair in class because he was leaning backwards). Then a trip to the park where you two spun on the merry-go-round until you couldn’t see straight or stop laughing. 

And when he finally took you home, he gave you a short peck to your head and wished you a good night. It was that moment you believed he liked you as well, and you dreamed of what it would be like to be boyfriend/girlfriend with him.

banner by @dollywons

[fortheloveoffanfic]

The Profound Pleasure of Little Things

Hozier x reader

Author's note: Basically the thought was, "ohh, what if there was a real moment that inspired Wasteland!baby."

Summary: Andrew and Y/n spend an afternoon at the beach.

Warnings - poorly written fluff, I guess.

"I think if the world ended right now, I'd be alright with that.”

After spending the past fifteen minutes or so bearing witness to her magnificence. Ireland's solem grey sky meeting the frigid, green water and acting as a cool toned backdrop to the brightness of her beauty. The way those deep, blue jeans hug her curves, the woolen burgundy coat, draped over a band tee, that follows the contour of her frame and her hair tumbling over her shoulders as she stands a few feet off the edge, gaze cast out towards the horizon; as if the world below them had been thought up just for her.

As Y/n turns to face him, the wind whips her hair forward, and he smiles when she hastily brushes away from her eyes. “What?” She chortles, but there's an air of disbelief in the word and she tilts her head a little to the side, “why?”

Licking his lips, Andrew pushes off the boulder he's been perched on, one converse-clad foot planted on the ground while the other stayed propped on a smaller rock jutting from the lush grass. “Because,” he stuffs his hands into the side pockets of the denim jacket he's thrown over his red flannel, “I've seen you, standing here and that's gotta be the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

Y/n rolls her eyes; he's awfully romantic when he doesn't mean to be – and mind-bogglingly terrible at it when he actively tries. Just that morning he'd clumsily danced them into the kitchen table after daring more than their usual sway. But now, after a long afternoon drive and an impromptu hike up a hill that overlooks the sea, he's stringing together the sort of lines that make her cheeks go warm and stirs a flutter in her chest. “You're being dramatic,” she teases, relinquishing her hand when he reaches for it. Their fingers lace with ease; it's something they're so used to doing that Y/n rarely thinks much of it anymore. It's such a small, mundane thing and his hands have become so familiar to her that they almost feel like her own – and like she'd miss her own hand if it were gone forever, she'd miss his too.

He is a part of her; as vital as a limb, or the thing beating in her chest.

“Hardly,” his thumb ghosts the soft skin over her knuckles, and his eyes soften when they meet hers. It still startles him that she's his, and standing there with the smell of salt, autumn and her perfume flooding his senses, Andrew fears he might be dreaming, “you look…..” Like a painting, something that one could only wish to be privileged enough to see, let alone touch, “exquisite.”

Y/n giggles before glancing down at herself. She knows she must look plain at best, and a wind-tousled mess at worst. Even if she isn't the self-deprecating type, it's tough to believe that she looks like anything special without makeup, her hair free-styled by the breeze and her face nipped by the chill. The coat that she's owned for nearly a decade and a faded t-shirt probably isn't helping her case either. “Are you trying to get laid on this hilltop?” She asks conspiringly.

Snaking his free arm around her waist, Andrew simultaneously pulls Y/n closer and throws his head back in laughter. Lifting her gaze to drink him in, Y/n’s smile softens; she loves the way he looks when he laughs like that. Entirely carefree, as if he mightn’t have anything in the world to worry about, its a laugh she sees most off when he’s been home for a while and he isn’t concerned about deadlines and appearances, or when they have friends over and he’s had a bit too much to drink. Or when she says something that is a little absurd, but not quite funny, and he somehow finds the world of humor in it.

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed,” his fingers curl into her waist. Then, when the shaking of his shoulders settle, he lowers his eyes to meet hers. It always baffles him how she could not know – not completely – what she does to him. Because if she did, Y/n wouldn’t doubt his credibility for a second when he says that she’s beautiful – and utterly in awe of everything that she is. “But I really do think that you look lovely darling,” he adds softly, freeing his hand from hers to gently cup her face, “if you saw what I did, you’d understand. If you could see yourself through my eyes…….thought of yourself with my mind, you would get to know the most breathtaking person I've ever met.”

Licking her lips, Y/n lays her hands on his chest, thumb grazing the sliver of skin left exposed by the undone top button of his shirt. “How do you do that?” She muses quietly, gazing up at him.

Andrew's thumb roves the apple of her cheek and she leans into his touch, “Do what?” He lowers his head a little, so their foreheads are that much closer to touching.

“Come up with…..stuff,” she hates the word in the context, “like that.”

“Well, it would just so happen, that I have the best muse,” because every beautiful thing he can think of is tangled up with the thought of her. He can’t see flowers without wondering how they’d look if they were laced in her hair, or held in her hands, he sees art and wonders if she’d like it too and when he’s faced with a day like this one – where everything seems to be in perfect measure – all Andrew wants to do is share it with her.

“I am just so in love with you,” he rasps, the sudden drop in his voice sending a shiver up her spine, “that it touches every part me, everything I do has a bit of you in it,” as if all the old parts of himself have been shed, giving way to something new, improved in a way that only be because of her presence.

The more Andrew thinks about the clearer one certainty becomes; in a way, the world has already ended. It happened the second he fell in love with her. Everything as he knew it was changed forever – reduced to a wasteland, and out from the ashes she came.

Lifting one of her hands, Y/n caresses his temple with the pad of her thumb. “What a beautiful mind you have,” she muses, gaze matching his. Y/n always faults him for having a way with his words, usually when he doesn't even mean to, but Andrew doesn't think she ever pays enough mind to what she's saying. “Who needs the rest of the world when they have this?”

His thumb continues stroking her cheek in that languid, gentle fashion and Andrew’s gaze softens so much that he thinks he must be melting under her touch. He must be putty in her hands – so easy to mold however she pleases, because the only thing he wants more than being with her is being exactly what Y/n needs.

May he always be a necessity, may her life be just a touch emptier without him, so she’ll keep him around.

“Who needs it, darling?” Who needs it when the best of it smiles when she looks at me? He’s just about to press his lips to hers in a kiss he’s been aching to steal since the moment she turned to look at him, when a wave – way down below – breaks so violently that a few droplets hit their faces, causing Y/n to shift her gaze towards the expanse of glacial teal.

“We should walk down to the beach,” she suggests suddenly, eyes alight with the wonder of someone yearning for the thrill of adventure. In an instant, Y/n is backing out of his embrace – like a dream just past his immediate reach. She takes his hand though, lacing her smaller, finer fingers with his and practically tugs him along, urging him towards the mouth of the stoney, sloped pathway that leads to the beach.

“Yeah, sure-” Andrew doesn’t even get to reply before he’s stumbling along, blindly following her. He isn’t even sure if she actually knows the way – he’s never taken her there, but Y/n is quick-witted enough to figure things out without anyone’s help. As he watches her trot ahead with purpose, feet clad in Chuck Taylor's stomping on the feathery grass as she moves ahead, Andrew keeps his gaze fixed on her. The way she holds her head up, as if she doesn’t need a map – or even him – to show her the way. The way the wind blows her hair and her delicate fingers work to keep them away from her eyes. She’s moving so quickly that its hard to take it all in, and Andrew finds himself wanting to ask her to slow down, so he can soak up the way she looks against the blur of the trees.

Sometimes, he wants to tell her – beg her – to just be a bit more still. Because while he adores watching her move, drinking in every miniscule action that is so specific to her, Andrew breathes for the moments where there isn’t the slightest quiver in her form. When his view of her is entirely unhampered by the demands of life; she doesn’t have to get up to answer her phone, or check on the laundry downstairs – when she’s just lounging in bed with her glasses propped on the bridge of her nose and a book held up in front of her face, when she’s sitting on the back patio while nursing an afternoon tea, watching the birds entertain each other.

When Y/n is standing before him, surrounded by a tapestry of greens and blues and other specks of colour that pale in her wake, like something he should never be so privileged to bare witness to.

His thoughts are interrupted when she stumbles on a rock and instinctively deserts her hand in favor of reaching for her hips. “Slow down,” he chuckles, reeling her close to his chest, one arm wrapping around her middle as they continue downward.

“But I wanna see the beach,” she protests with a giggle as his lips find her cheek. Reaching past herself, she lays her hand on his neck, holding his face close to hers for a few seconds longer.

“And you will,” Andrew mumbles, mouth still pressed up to her face, “but lets……enjoy the getting there too.”

“I think you’re enjoying it a little too much,” Y/n admonishes humorously when Andrew squeezes her to him.

“Impossible,” he bends his head to nuzzle the side of her face, “I actually think you’re not enjoying this enough.”

“Yeah?” She leans into his embrace, hand falling onto his forearm as she finally relents to stopping for a moment. She can hear the sounds of the sea a bit more clearly now, and the air is saltier than it had been when they were up on the hill. Through the foliage, Y/n spots bits of jewel toned ripples, a tell-tale sign that they aren’t too far off, and she’s actively holding herself back from urging him ahead. She does have a habit of rushing things, sometimes the need to just keep moving is almost overwhelming; she’s so focused on getting somewhere that she forgets the journey is half the experience.

Andrew, she often finds, is entirely the opposite. It's a quality she admires in him; his ability to revel in simple joys, the way he’s able to steady himself enough to thoroughly take everything in. While she’s eager to brush past everything in her way to get to her finish line, he’s perfectly fine with strolling through the trees, stopping ever so often to take pictures of things that interest him, or rattle off a random fact that he learned in a nature documentary.

“Yes,” Andrew hisses, kissing the corner of her lips, “just relax a little.”

“I’m very relaxed,” Y/n scoffed defensively, “we just have different definitions of that word.”

Andrew laughs loudly, finally letting her go and allowing her to take his hand again, “I’m not even sure that word is in your dictionary,” he chortles as she tows him along. Y/n doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even know if she hears him, because as the words leave his mouth, they reach the edge of the woods which opens up to the small beach. The sand is soft under his shoes, and the sting of salty air is sharp. “Happy now?” He teases when she lets his hand go in favor of going a few paces ahead.

“I was always happy,” Y/n corrects, “but now I'm…..satisfied.”

“If satisfaction is what you were looking for, I could've helped with that up there,” he nudges his head towards the top of the hill they’d been standing on about fifteen minutes earlier.

Y/n rolls her eyes as she turns to look at him, “oh shut up,” she giggles.

“Just sayin’,” he hums, moving to stand beside her, arm going around her shoulders. Immediately, Y/n tilts her head so its touching his side.

As she keeps her eyes trained forward, Y/n hums, “its so beautiful.”

Andrew returns the sound, albeit just a bit softer as he turns his head to look down at her, nestled against him. Its hard to describe just how much he enjoys the feeling of her tucked against him, its one of those simple pleasures that he never fails to appreciate; the way her form fits perfectly with his, like they were made to just click together. It's such a small thing; the comfort that comes with holding someone who wouldn’t trade the feeling of your arms around them for anything else in the world, and he can never seem to get enough of it. He lives for the way throwing his arm around her shoulder has become as natural to him as breathing, and how instinctive it is when she leans against him.

“Don’t you think so?” Y/n glances up at him, a smile dusting her cheeks when their eyes meet. There's always a little tingle that prods at her heart when she finds him looking at her, like the beat of butterfly wings against the petal of a flower.

Licking his lips, he glances forward at the ocean stretched out before then, and the near vacant beach that spreads out for at least a mile on either side.

He must’ve seen this beach near a hundred times by now. Andrew is well aquainted with the way the waves break against the collection of jagged rocks piled against once side of the shore, foam washing the salt-worn gray and seeping into the crevices. The crunch of pebbles and broken seashells under his boot isn’t foreign to him, and he knows all too well how frigid those waters can be around this time of the year. He’s seen the beauty of the place, he swears he’s done his best to appreciate it too, but there’s something different about holding her as the water pulls the sand seaward and salty sprinkles dust their lips. It feels like he’s seeing for the first time all over again.

And he loves it – all of it. The way it feels like a film has been peeled off his eyes, the thrill of enjoying the simplest things so much more than he ever has because he's sharing the moment with her.

“Yeah,” he looks at her again, lowering his head to touch the tips of their noses, “its beautiful, baby.”

[boydepartment]

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍩₊˚⊹♡ so what do you recommend? nishimura riki x gn! reader

250ish words- riki being a loser- engene reader working at a donut shop - masterlist

you stood at the counter waiting for your name to either be called to the back or for someone to come in. the chain you work at was supposed to be closed today but your manager asked if you could come in for this specific store as you guys decided to be open

to be honest you didn’t mind, you liked your job and it’d keep you distracted from the fact you couldn’t make it to a concert you desperately wanted to go to. you had the money to attend just not the means to get there, who seriously has a concert mid week? and in a place where they already go to every tour? it wasn’t that far but just the hassle of getting there and work. ugh it was just a mess. you really wanted to go too… you loved k-pop and concerts. especially hybe groups and especially enhypen.

unfortunately the cards just aren’t in your favor this leg of the tour.

you sighed as you watched out the window as people walked by the store, wondering who was going to walk in and ask for a donut. you looked down for a split second picking at the bandaids that covered your fingers from earlier in the day.

when the little ding came up you perked up. smiling at the two boys who walked in.

“hi welcome in! how can i help you?” you leaned against the donut case in front of you. the two boys looked at you and then at eachother. you took a quick note of the apparel

one was shorter than the other, denim vest, chain, a backwards hat that looked oddly familiar. when you took note of the taller one your heart stopped for a moment.

there was no way this was happening to you at work…

the taller one wore the absolute ugliest jacket and jean combo you have ever seen in your life, and he wore the ugliest baseball cap to accompany it. the unfortunate part was, you’d recognize that ugly outfit combo anywhere.

“um hi sorry about that- can i get-“

AUSTRALIAN 🫵

okay y/n play it cool.

the taller one who you assumed you knew to be none other than nishimura riki, hit the shorter one and stood closer to you.

“i’m sorry he’s dumb-“ the taller one spoke, “we have never been here before actually-“

“I LITERALLY HAV-“

the taller one waved him off and kept his attention on you. the closer he got to the case display, the more you could see the little mole under his eye.

“ignore him.” he said quickly, you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. he leaned against the counter next to the case display and looked at you.

“so what do you recommend..?”

was he trying to hit on you?

you put your hand under your chin and looked at him, throughly enjoying this and thanking the universe if this was real and not just delusion, “definitely anything with crème but you cannot go wrong with a strawberry donut.” you smiled at him. you heard riki giggle under his mask and his friend(who you guessed was jake) groaned, probably embarrassed.

“i love strawberries actually. i’ll get both though.” he said and you started to bag them up, you looked up at his friend.

“anything for you?”

jake walked closer to the counter and apologized quietly, “can we just get two dozen of the signature donuts too..?”

you nodded and grabbed the ready to go boxes behind you.

“actually can i pick the-“ riki spoke big jake interrupted him.

“MAN STOP MAKING THE WORKERS JOB HARDER JUST BECAUSE YOU THINK THEYRE CUTE!” he shoved him and got shoved back. you started to giggle again and gave them their total.

jake paying and trying to apologize for his friend’s behavior.

they quickly grabbed their donuts and headed out, riki wishing you a good day before running into the door and getting laughed at by jake.

you felt yourself look down smiling.

part of you felt like you were being delusional until you saw a little piece of paper near your sticky notes that you used to remember restock…

‘be back tomorrow by MYSELF- hope ur working-

my name is riki :)’

your jaw dropped slightly before you pocketed the note and was called back by your manager to help in the back. you quickly scurried to the back of the house and tried to hide your smile.

[hxney-lemcn]

non-request Idia thought of the Day:

Consider hieght difference.

OUR BOY BE TALL!! Easily being able to duck under his arm or get into small spaces to fix tech because you're small.

being absolutely done with a situation (Dorm head meeting?), walking over to Idia, and promptly zipping yourself up in his jacket. while he's still in it. He doesn't know what to do. he's just standing there with another person in his jacket with him. WHAT BUTTON DOES HE PRESS FOR THIS HE DOESNT KNOW-- Not even your head is out, the jacket is zipped all the way up.

Also sweater paws for that one hit K.O. to Idia.

ALSO SHORT BUT STRONK- IMAGINE BEING SMALL AND ADORABLE BUT YOU JUST PICK IDIA'S SKYSCRAPER ASS UP LIKE NOTHING. "Hi Cater, Need Idia. Bye." Straight just yoinking him and leaving. Why did you need him? Parallel play reasons obviously.

Idia is 6 ft (183 cm) tall, and he never really thought about his height. Why would he? He barely leaves his room, if anything, he wishes he was smaller so he could blend into a crowd better.

And then you come along. It doesn't matter how much shorter you are, whether its only an inch or a foot, he notices that your shorter.

It would be so funny if you try to kabedon him, if you're really short you gotta stand up on your tippy toes. Instant K.O. Idia is gone, deceased. He finds it both adorable and lowkey hot and he secretly wishes you do it again.

If he tries to get you back...he dies of embarrassment if you slip under his arm. HE WAS TRYING TO DO THE THING! AND YOU JUST- YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO DO THAT! (give him a little kiss to make up for your teasing).

He is crumbling at any sign of affection (even more so if its public). You zipping yourself in his hoodie? Or just slipping it over your head as well. Sharing a hoodie while he's still in it...yeah he's a jittery mess. You're heat seeping into him, your hair tickling his skin, you look so peaceful with your head against his chest and arms around his torso...if your in a private setting he watches you with a blush. He can't get over the fact that you're real and you choose him. If you're in public his hood is over his head and he's trying to act cool but his bright pink cheeks and tips of his hair clearly give away his true feelings.

It would be absolutely comical for short but strong reader to pick up Idia. Oh my gosh and if people are around...yeah he's floundering (ik I keep saying that but lets be real...he can barely handle a normal social situation lmao). To be fair, if you can lift over 140lbs (63kg) you can probably carry him (he is thin so I'm assuming we are a similar weight and I added some lbs cus he's taller than me). This is probs your way of getting him out of a situation he doesn't want to be in (any social one 💀).

Cater is trying to be buddy buddy with Idia, wanting to finally have at least one friend from Ignihyde. Idia looks like he wants to be literally anywhere else. So you decide to step in, pick up Idia, and tell Cater that y'all had plans. Idia is holding onto you for dear life, Cater is eating it up (this is now added to his gossip folder and he definitely got photos of you carrying Idia). After the panic wears off, Idia is impressed. Who knew you had so much muscle? Totally not another reason for him to simp for you.

[lovelytsunoda]

you, me, lonely | mercedes amg (platonic)

summary: life is kicking baby mercs ass, and nothing has been alright since the last time she watched a brat pack movie. her head is too loud, life is moving fast, and she just wishes she knew how to stop and take a breath

pairing: mercedes amg (platonic) team x female! reader (but this one is real heavy on her interactions with lewis!)

warnings: y'all should know these by now tbh, there will be some anxiety and there will be feels and my girl is on the verge of a breakdown, mentions of pregnancy (not on baby mercs part lmao), she is finally ready to admit that maybe she should think about going to therapy.

part of the family is the friends we meet along the way series

her mind froze as she stared at the text on her screen, phone lying next to the keyboard of her work computer. she'd read the message three times over, and it still wasn't quite clicking.

clement: i thought you'd want to hear it from us before it hit the gossip rags....olli's new girlfriend is pregnant.

that shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. olli wasn't hers. she'd made it clear that she didn't want him after he'd kissed her at that holiday party.

so why was there an achy feeling her gut?

why did her head feel so loud that it might explode?

"hello? earth to yn?" the soft voice called her out of her reverie, and she looked up from her desk to see a worried lewis standing in front of her desk. "are you alright, kiddo?"

"yeah." she said, not really meaning it as she brushed some hair out of her face.

crazy how he was her first (and only) kiss two years ago, and now he was having a baby with someone else. she'd already blocked his number, and there was no point in sending him well wishes considering just how burned that bridge was.

"you don't look fine." lewis pushed gently. "a problem shared is a problem halved."

she sighed, locking her computer and tucking away her phone. "join me for a walk? i need to take my mandatory fifteen."

she grabbed her sherpa jacket from the back of her desk chair, heading towards brackley's patio doors. the cool fall air slapped her in the face as she pushed them open, moving to stand at the corner of the deck, attempting to soak up the last of what little sun england gets.

"remember that guy i kissed at marcus armstrong's holiday party a few years back?"

lewis nodded. "i do recall."

"he's going to be a father in march." she sighed, watching her breath turn to mist in the air. "somebody wanted him, but nobody has wanted me since him."

she knew in her heart of hearts that she hadn't really tried. she hadn't even really wanted olli when she thought about it. she couldn't date a driver, especially knowing that she would almost always come second to his career.

"and now with you leaving and graduation drawing closer, i just feel like my fucking head is about to explode." she laughed grimly, a realization coming over her. "i'm mentally ill, lewis. i need help. and it has taken me five fucking years to get to the point where i've felt like i could ask for it."

lewis could hear her voice cracking, and he didn't have to turn and look at her to know that she was close to tears. he silently reached out to pull her into a hug, not wanting to push too far, but also wanting to offer the reassurane and comfort that he knew she needed.

"the first step is admitting you need help. we have some of the best therapists in our industry here, yn. and if none of them work, we'll find out which ones are covered by your healthcare plan."

she resisted the urge to sink deeper into his arms with a hearty sob, instead choosing to focus on the grounding smell of his cologne, the feel of his strong, tattooed arms around her.

"and just because i'm at ferrari doesn't mean im gone for good." lewis reminded, pulling away to make sure she looked him in the eyes. "you know that i'm one phone call away, whenever you need me, right?'

she nodded weakly, thinking about the long distance calling fees and the timezones, and all the other reasons why lewis' grand plan might not work.

"i wish you weren't leaving me." she mumbled, hoping that even if lewis heard her say that, that he wouldn;t feel guilty. she knew deep down that he wasn't leaving her, but leaving a team that he felt could no longer build him the car he needed.

"you can call me any time, hey. and mostly everyone else will still be here. you'll still see me on race weekends. besides, once you graduate, you'll be too focused and too busy to have time for us anyways."

that was true. she couldn;t work here forever. sooner or later, it would all end and she'd find herself working in a county courthouse or a small family firm.

maybe somewhere coastal, like devon or halifax. her next big adventure, far away from home.

if she could make it through therapy first. lewis made her promise to talk to toto, who would be able to arrange a meeting with one of the on-staff psychologists for her. she'd met a fewof them in and around the break room, and they seemed personable.

like the kind of people that wouldn't judge the firestorm going on inside her brain at all hours.

they both knew it wasn't going to be a permanent fix, and that there were bigger, different things coming to the mercedes amg headquarters in the next season, including a seventeen year old boy who's gross income was about four times what baby merc could veer hope to earn.

but she was really starting to find her footing here. all she could hope for now was that she managed to keep it until graduation.

she felt somewhat lighter after her talk. being social had never been her forte, and she only somewhat conversed with the ladies in the legal office. talking was hard, she found.

but as lewis walked her back to her desk, and she took a look at her stack of files again, she felt better, albeit slightly.

"hey, yn." elodie, the tall and funny goth girl who worked at the desk next to her stuck her head over the glass dividers. "a few of us were going to grab a drink later and maybe go catch a late movie. did you want to come with us? don't at all feel like you have to say yes if you don't want to. i think doriane is coming, as well as-"

"elodie." she said, smiling to herself. "i would love to tag along. thank you for inviting me."

elodie grinned. "no problem, girlie. we're all going to meet in the front lobby. susie recommended this incredible cider place, and we try to go at least once a year once fall hits."

with her heart feeling a little lighter, and her spirit a little warmer, she turned back to her computer, a small, dainty smile on her face.

maybe making new friends outside of her post secondary education wasn't going to be as hard as she thought.

after all, didn't it only take one conversation to gain the great lewis hamilton as her most trusted ally?

she was so fortunate to work somewhere where everybody cared so much about each other, and that was the thought that she pledged to hang onto during her loneliest of hours from now on.