#and finally it's done in this messy state

[grinly]

I decided that if I was going to kill myself anyways I could just let things not matter and take the slow door out.

No messy corpse or sad people who care about me.

No stressing politics.

I'm not going to make any kind of difference in the world and eventually I'll be forgotten either way.

It is so much less stressful and politics is just hilarious.

I'm useful this way too. Like, a corpse, unless you do home burial you aren't even taken back into the earth. Just buried with your blood replaced with saline and toxic chemicals.

This way if some shitty kid is about to be hit by a car - boom. Hero moment. I'm diving to knock them out of the way of truck kun and I finally get out of here and in a way that makes people think kindly of me instead of wondering if they could have done anything. Same thing if there's bullets flying. I'm the atheist on top of any hand grenade that gets thrown.

It's the moral way to go out

Anyways I think that's the opposite of suicide. Death by living. Otherwise you're just not killing yourself or even thinking about it and I think that's the neutral state? The opposite of actively ending your life is actively not ending your life.

There's probably a German word for it.

[cwittr]

one more ೃ࿔

pairings. kang dae-ho x fem!reader

warnings. cunnilingus, overstim, fingering, squirting

an. no sg au !

“i need you. right now.”

those five words was all it took for you to end up like this. naked, legs spread impossibly wide, with dae-ho’s head buried into your cunt as he ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. his tongue wildly lapped at your swollen clit like he was a dog dying of thirst. his fingers plunged into you, his fingertips kissing the spongy spot deep inside you until your mind was fuzzy.

you didnt know what gotten into him. he had never been this messy and relentless with you before. you desperately tried to unlatch your cunt from him by pulling away only to be met with his whiny voice. “pleasepleaseplease angel just one more then we’ll stop,” he sputtered against your pussy. “j’st can’t get ‘nough of your pretty pussy, doll"

if it weren’t for your dazed state you would’ve known it was far from the last orgasm. you should've pushed him away and saved yourself from the hours of torture he was about to perform on you pussy, but you simply nodded and let out a squeaky "okay".

your body felt numb, yet you felt every little graze at the same time. you felt so utterly exposed. his long fingers thrusting in and out of your squelching cunt. the sounds were pornographic, the loud wet sounds coming from between your legs mixed with both of your moans made your pussy throb and your stomach tighten.

“m’ close !!” you cried out.

“c’mon sweetheart,” his voice was muffled. “you can do it baby, give it to me”

the feeling of your gummy walls contract around his fingers only made his desire to make you cum stronger. his tongue swirled around your clit, his fingers curled deep into you. and with one final thrust of his fingers and caress of his tongue, you came undone.

it was if the earth stopped moving on its axis. all the oxygen was ripped from your lungs as you screamed through your orgasm. you gushed all over his face, spraying your sweet juices all in his mouth.

“d’ you just squirt, dolly?” it came out as a laugh more than a question.

“mgfh” you groaned, rolling over on your side and curling up into a fetal position.

he grabbed your ankles and pulled you back towards the edge of the bed.

“ah ah ah, we’re not done yet baby,” he smirked.

[zyoumeval]

“Caleb is for the girls who are reluctant to show their true selves because they are afraid of losing their loved one after they show it.”

Caleb has known you for years to date, going through thick and thin, Caleb sees you as someone strong and unbreakable. He believes, whatever life throws you, you will still persevere fiercely on the path you choose. You will achieve greater things, you are going to reach the stars like what you’ve always told him.

Until one day, he couldn’t reach you through any form of communication. It’s like… you just vanished into a thin air after a certain situation that he knew it put you in a distress. He already consoled you, gave you company, and be by your side for days. But why were you not answering all of his messages and calls?

He knocks once, “Open the door, pip-squeak. It’s me.”

He knocks twice with more alert, “Pip-squeak, open the goddamn door. I need to see you right now.”

He groans in worry and knocks again, “Open the door or I’ll find a way to break this.”

After a while, he finally hears footsteps approaching the door of your apartment and a click echoed in his ears. With no time wasted, he turns the knob and enters your apartment hurriedly, closing the door behind him.

What Caleb doesn’t expecting to see is your disheveled state; bloodshot and swollen eyes, messy hair, and nose colored in red.

“Wha-” He shuts his mouth and pulls you gently by the wrist to your couch. He sits you down and kneels in front of you, his hands cradling yours carefully as if he’s afraid you’ll break the second he touches you.

Your eyes meet his, “Why are you here? Aren’t you already in Skyhaven?”

“You didn’t answer my calls or reply to my messages for the whole day. You expected me to not worry about a single thing?” He states. “Tell me. What happened?”

You shake your head and lean your head back to the headrest. You stare into the ceiling emptily, “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“You want me to believe that?” He says in a quiet voice. “Do better than that, I’m not taking any bullshit you say at this moment.”

You sigh softly and lift your head to look at him. Emotions still swirling hard inside you, honestly, you are unable to meet his sharp and demanding eyes. But this is Caleb that we are talking about, he will never stop and leave until he gets the answer he wanted.

“I think…” You pause, “What they said is true, me being irresponsible for my actions. If from the start I knew I couldn’t do it, I should’ve avoid taking the position. I should’ve just… chosen the usual position that I’m familiar with, not taking the risk like this. It supposed to go well, I supposed to be a person they always see, not like this.”

He scoffs softly and shakes his head, “Are you trying to impress them or what? Do they deserve your immense attention like this?” He replies firmly, “C’mon, college is a time to explore things that you haven’t done before and it’s a good thing. People made mistakes and you can’t always please them.”

He squeezes your hands and leans closer, “You’ve tried your best, you did your part well. There’s no expectation you need to fulfill at that part, so don’t lose yourself to matters like this.”

“How can I?! They talked about me and even spreading it to uninvolved people in this project! I was afraid, Caleb. I was afraid coming to college because of it!” You snap and tears run down freely over your cheeks.

“It’s them who can’t appreciate you, pip-squeak,” He refutes lowly. “You’ve reflected enough these past few days and you already knew the answer. They weren’t worth of your attention and care. There are many people who deserve it, find them. Don’t focus on them only, this world… doesn’t revolve around them. Take a step out of the bubble and you’ll see people who are worth it.”

Caleb lifts his body up and embraces you in his warmth, his hand rubs your back soothingly. Caleb shuts his eyes as he nuzzles the skin of your neck, you’re too good for this world, too naïve sometimes — and he wants to be the one who holds your hands to protect you from this cruel world.

“Don’t worry about a thing now, pip-squeak. I’m always here for you.”

[adoreangelia]

Show You ── . ꪆৎ

paring: weirdo! pouge! reader x rafe cameron

warning: mdni 18+, fingering, overstimulation

summary: rafe shows you have bad he wants to take this relationship seriously.

a/n: i swear to you i just had to rewrite this whole thing because i forgot to save the draft. anyway, this is my first smut so it might be a little corny. if any pro writers reading this help me! hope you guys enjoy 🫶🏽.

you and rafe had always been on and off. the two of you never lasting simply because it seems impossible.

one of the reason being your he was your best friend’a brother— sarah cameron. you hated that, the fact that you both having to sneak around constantly. going so far as to not even being in the same room.

and you knew it was bad. being in a situation with him. but you couldn’t bring your self to stop seeing him.

rafe hated hiding you guys relationship he would always try to convince you that sarah wouldn’t care— that she’d just eventually have to accept the fact that her best friend was dating her brother.

with that being said rafe wanted to take you guys serious, and in reality you knew that. it was just you he was waiting on.

it was another typical night at tanny hill— sarah had run off with topper and had you covering for her. you and rafe had just had a messy break up so you had no one to entertain you while sarah was gone.

the first hour was fine to say the least, you invited yourself to explore her room which you’ve done thousands of times before. never finding anything new.

the second hour you decided to watch tv, which you hated. already bored with the movie you picked.

just as you’re getting ready to doze off a ping comes from your phone— the screen lighting up with a notification from “rafe”.

quickly sitting up you grab the phone unlocking it to open the message

rafe: “come to my room” it reads.

taking a deep sigh you force your self up off the bed and head toward his room.

walking through the eerie halls that always managed to put you a edge. until finally you finally make your way to the boy’s room.

hesitantly you twist the knob of the door peeking your head through the door.

rafe sits on the edge of his bed, right leg bouncing up and down.

until he hear the door and turns his head to look your way.

“cm’on sit down, i ain’t gone hurt you.” he pats the empty spot next to him signaling you to come and sit.

finally you want in slowly closing the door behind you making sure it doesn’t squeak.

slowing you make your way over to his bed sitting down where he told you.

almost instantly his hand pull your legs over his lap.

“rafe, it’s late and sarah will be back any minute.” you mumble already fed up with the whole set up.

“just let me talk baby, please?” his eyes are basically begging me to let him talk.

“fine just.. make it quick.”

he nods in agreement before he starting talking again.

the typical run down of how he’s sorry and he was just in a “bad state of mind” typical sorry ass excuses.

“just one more time i know i fucked up, but listen i want you just you that’s all.” he ramble on and about the same things for what feels like forever.

“i’m sorry and i love you, alright?” his right hand hold the side of your face giving you a small kiss on your forehead “just let me show you”

you wanted to say fuck him and leave so bad but the way he was touching you.

the way his hands rubbed up and down against your thigh.

“you know i love you right..” he mumbled against your skin.

you nod already high off the sound of his voice.

your back now against his mattress, half dazed as to how quickly everything just took place.

his hand travels under your shirt exploring what underneath .

the tip of his thumbs brushing against the skin of you already tender nipples.

small whines escape from your lips.

“i know baby, i know.” his hands start to lift up the ends of your shirt.

bending done kissing along your stomach. “cm’on let’s take this off”

with the shirt off and your chest now fully exposed his tongue wraps around the sensitive skin.

both already swollen and sensitive from previous teasing.

the little noises your making equal to music in rafe’s ears.

his free hand gliding down your loose pajama pants.

“just wanted to get fucked by my fingers tonight, huh?” the pads of his fingers start to move in circular motions around your cunt. “answer me.”

“yes, yes fuck.” you whine fucking yourself against his fingers.

“atta’ girl” a light chuckle comes from him at your response

“so wet f’me” he mumbled against your ear.

the feelings of his warm breath against you.

his fingers dig into your cunt warm and wet a perfect fit for them.

bringing his thumb to rub again your already sensitive clit.

“fuck yesss” you moan gripping onto his bicep as your high starts to approach you.

“yeah that it’s, let it go angel” he whispers placing gentle kisses along your neck and lips.

body shaking through the intense orgasm.

“there you go baby.” he says kissing your cheek.

pulling his hand from the now messy pajamas and licking his fingers.

“showed you didn’t i?”

a/n: omg please kill me, i’ve never cringed so hard writing something in my life. anyway, i know i been gone, mostly because i’ve been busy and been having such writers block. but for a while but im back guys!

[sporco-filth]

Om a different note, has your tumblr banner been changing? Every now and then I look at the picture of the amazingly filthy room, and I swear it got messier/dirtier the last time I looked at it

No, the image has not been changed since this blog was made (I mean the file on my computer, and so the image in the banner can't be different either).

BUT... this actually alludes to something and I will reward your question with a sneak peak. Because, you see, this picture is from my still-in-development slob game (it's fallen to the wayside over the holidays but I'm planning to start work again soon). And in that game, the room actually does in fact start out neat and becomes messier. The version shown is the end result.

The image though is based off this shot from this episode of Portlandia:

In the game, everything starts out clean:

And then if you lower the cleanliness points to 0 it looks like this:

I'm still working on the in-between stages though.

There are other rooms (lounge, bedroom, bathroom) but those I started from a clean room and am building up to a messy room, so they're relatively cleaner currently:

(this is the messiest one so far, but it's still got a long way to go. It's not even halfway yet)

I know I said I wouldn't spoil things by showing my work in progress but eh... you lot have been waiting too long for me to draw these things so at least you can see I've made some progress.

[vraiao]

✰ . drunk sex, kazuha's wasted, reader is ALSO drunk😭, this is really short, messy creampie, fem reader

kazuha fucking you while ur both drunk lol

"pretty.. so pretty,' the drunken kazuha murmured as he slowly and erratically rocked his hips back and forth, his thick cock kissing every one of the sweet spots inside your cunt, a truly euphoric feeling.

your moans were music to him, a melody sweeter than the songs of the winds. his head hung low, heavy breaths that were just short of whines falling into your ears like a soothing lullaby. he brought a hand up from your waist, moving your hand that was strung over your mouth to the side, pressing it against the mattress and intertwining his fingers with yours.

in between the messy kisses kazuha started to place all over your neck, he mumbled, "mnh.. 'want you to be my girlfriend, pretty girl.." his other hand tightened on your waist, making sure to hold you still while he stuffed his dick into you.

your free hand moved to tangle in his hair, and with a whine of his name, you softly laughed because, "i am your girlfriend," you stuttered out, your fucked out state barely allowing your words to leave your mouth coherently.

he let out a shaky, strained sigh, his warm breath and the faint scent of the one too many drinks he had tonight tickling your skin. "mmh.. how lucky i am," he muttered, his hips slightly stuttering at your words.

releasing your hand, he lifted one of your legs up and pressed your thigh against your chest, his pace slow and rough to make sure he properly filled up every inch of you. his hands gripped firmly on your waist and the back of your thigh, hips thrusting in an unsteady rhythm while he murmured sweet praises into your ear. "perfect.. 'feels so fucking perfect," he whispered, shamelessly whimpering and moaning right into your ear with half-lidded eyes.

lifting his head up just enough, he crashed his lips against yours, suddenly speeding up his thrusts, nails digging into your skin. he barely pulled off of you, breaking the kiss for short seconds at a time before eagerly pressing his lips back onto yours. he hardly gave the two of you any time to breathe, until you were frantically tapping his shoulder-- to which he responded by pulling off only for a few seconds longer each time he did so.

within minutes, he was losing it, biting at your bottom lip as the coiling knot in his stomach finally snapped. he pulled off of your mouth, leaving both of you panting messes as his cum spilled all into you, the sensation tipping you too over the edge of your orgasm-- your juices creating a creamy white ring at the base of his cock while his hips slowly stuttered into a stop.

his head hung low, heavily panting into your ear for just a moment. you thought he was done until he started shortly rutting his hips again as he pulled his head up to meet your gaze with a desperate look in his eyes. "one more, baby?"

kazuha, your beautiful and loving boyfriend. how could you ever say no to him?

[evie-sturns]

open up - Matt Sturniolo

summary: after a long day of matt basically ignoring you, and being too grumpy to even get out of bed, you finally get him to open up to you.

contains: crying, anggstt?.., boyfriend!matt, comforting, fluff.

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

10:28am

"matt we have to go baby, chris nick and i are all going to the cafe." i say softly, ruffling matts messy hair.

hes refused to get out of bed this whole morning, hes woken up in a horrible, grumbly mood.

i stand beside matt's bed, his body intertwined in the tangled duvet.

he shakes his head with a groan, i let out a soft sigh. "matt, they're waiting for us."

"bro- just tell 'm that i dont wanna come." matt croaks out, i furrow my eyebrows at the new nickname he has for me.

i fold my arms, letting out a small huff. "alright, ill be back in a couple hours." i mumble.

matt nods, tugging the blanket back up over his body.

i walk out of the room, closing the door behind me.

what is going on with him?

-----

(3 hours later)

its now 1pm, i decide to go check on matt again.

i sit up off the couch and walk down the hallway towards matt and i's room.

i approach the closed white door, knocking twice before slowly pushing it open.

all i see is a large lump under the covers, which must be matt.

i walk over to the side of the bed before peeling back the sheets. matt’s on his phone, lazily scrolling.

“hey, you okay?” i ask, running my hands through his hair.

he nods his head with a small hum,

“matt i’m a bit worried about you sweetie, you’re never like this.” i sigh,

“don’t be worried.” he mutters, still endlessly scrolling through his phone.

“you’ve not left our house in a solid week, that’s not like you.” i state,

matt tenses, putting his phone down next to him.

“i’m just tired okay!?” matt attempts to raise his voice, but it comes out as croaked and weak.

“shh- sh.” i attempt to shush him, which he doesn’t react well to.

“don’t shush me! can you just leave i’m so done with this-“

matt sounds like a whiny teenager, i feel like his mom, trying to get him to open the curtains for the first time in years.

“get up.” i mutter, tugging the sheets off him.

he pushes my hand away, “i don’t want to.”

i scoff, “matt stop, stop acting like an actual child!” i raise my voice slightly, trying to get my point across.

“can you please just leave me alone?!” matt groans,

i sigh, no longer trying to wrestle him to get the sheets off him.

i sit down on the bed beside him, i’m sat up against the headboard.

we sit in silence for a few minutes.

matt’s breathing is laboured, he’s getting so irritated by everything i do.

“what’s going on matt.” i whisper, reaching out and running my fingers up his temple.

“it’s just- i’m trying to sleep and you keep coming in here and fucking annoying me-“

matt’s sentence is cut off by his voice cracking,

“i’m- i’m sorry- i don’t mean that.”

tears start to roll down his flushed cheeks,

i’ve never seen matt cry.

i sit him up against the headboard next to me, i grab his shoulder and tug him to my chest.

“it’s okay, i’m not mad at you.” i coo, pressing kisses to the top of his head

he nods, his small sniffles turn into full sobs.

“do you wanna open up and talk to me about it?” i ask softly, running my nails up his back.

matt nods through his strangled sobs,

“i’m so- confused.” matt manages to squeeze out.

i nod, lifting the back of his shirt up and dragging my nails up his bare back.

“i don’t understand why- why you put up with me“ he sobs,

“and i know i sound like an absolute pick me saying that, but you’re just an- an infinitely better person than me.” matt speaks, rubbing his eyes with his fists,

“i feel like i’m not a fun person to be around- and you’re the total opposite like, everybody likes you-?”

i nod, letting him spill his words out.

“literally just being around you and knowing how you are in comparison to me makes me feel so shit.” he mumbles,

“the feeling i get in my stomach, it’s so bad.” he sniffs,

“i’m sorry- i genuinely sound like such a attention seeker.” matt half laughs.

i continue to stroke his back, he frantically tries to wipe his eyes everytime a new tear falls.

“you’re allowed to cry, i’m right here.” i whisper,

he nods, soft crys falling from his lips as he buries his face further into the soft fabric of my shirt.

“you know i love you so much, honestly i think i’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.” i sigh,

he shakes his head, “that’s not true.”

“it is, you make me feel so safe, you’re honestly my bestfriend ever.” i tell him, my voice full of sincerity.

matt’s crying gets worse as he hears me talk, his hands clutching my shirt, his brown floppy locks spread across my shirt.

i let him express everything he’s been feeling, letting him cry.

i think matt bottles a lot of shit up, and every couple months it all comes out in sudden bursts like these.

“i love you, i don’t want you to ever feel like this.” i sigh,

“you can tell me anything, anytime.”

matt nods again, slowly peeling himself away from my chest.

his eyes are red and puffy, his lips are swollen and his hair is sticking up in 8 different directions.

i laugh slightly, “sorry-“

a grin grows on matt’s face as he attempts to fix his hair.

“oh- oh, your making it worse.” i giggle,

i reach a hand up and try to flatten his hair,

“you’re gonna flatten it!! i’m gonna look like a pancake.” matt laughs hysterically,

“i’m a trained hairstylist, if anything i’ll make it 10x better!!” i protest.

—-

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[mattsstarlet]

fully introducing…dealer!matt and goodgirl!reader

in which…your friend brings you along to a trap house party, where you meet the dealer himself.

warnings: mentions of drugs, alcohol, and suggestive content. no smut.

note: my first ever prompt is here! i’m not the best writer so i really do hope u enjoy.

your heart thumped the same rhythm as the loud bass blasting off the walls. as you walked into the trap house, the more you saw, the tighter your hand gripped your friend.

it was much wilder than you had ever imagined, or maybe it was because parties weren’t your thing. you’d rather be cooped up in your cozy bed with your nose stuck in some romance book. 

the lights are down low, and a small disco ball flashes colors, matching the pace of whatever rap song is playing. you scrunch your nose as you smell a whiff of weed and alcohol lingering in the air. 

 a bunch of rowdy boys huddle up over a table, playing some sort of game involving alcohol, though it looks like they’ve done a lot of drinking and less playing. as you walk in further, each corner is busy with horny couples sticking their tongues down each other's throats.

your friend looks back at you, tightening her hold as you two make your way past a busy crowd. she’s only been here a few times, but she’s already familiar with the layout, having some sort of relationship with a guy who lives here. 

squeezing past the sweaty bodies, your friend pulls you towards the direction of a couch. one of the guys sitting there raises his head, a small grin appearing on his face.

“what’s up, baby?” he lifts himself off the couch and snakes his arm around her waist. “y’made it.” 

“hi,” her voice soft and gentle. she motions to you with a wave, signaling you to get closer. “chris, this is my friend and roommate.”

he nods, “s’nice to meet you. heard a lot about you actually,” he smirks. 

chris goes on, joking about how much of a yapper your friend is. you on your end, block out their conversation, distracted by the items on the coffee table. 

teeny tiny bags of colored pills lay on the flat surface, as well as lines of white powder and expired credit cards. in the middle, cold bottles of high-quality alcohol sit next to an ashtray with stones of a certain green plant and cut-up brown paper. 

a tattooed arm brings you back to focus when it reaches over, picking up a pre-rolled joint and a lighter. your eyes shift towards the owner, chewing on your bottom lip as you take in the mysterious man.

the first thing you noticed was his stubble, and how well it defined his sharp jaw. the messy hair look makes it seem like it was made for him. it just fell perfectly into place around his sculptured face. 

“y’starin’ mad hard, sweetheart.” his low, husky voice snapped you out of your daze. “y’tryna buy or… jus’ like whatcha see?” a slight smirk appeared as he finally pulled his gaze from the joint to your wide eyes. he glances at your pouty lips, licking his own before meeting your gaze once again. 

you shake your head; the thought of trying pills or weed alone makes your skin crawl. it’s no secret that you’ve at least tried alcohol, but then again, it was just a tiny sip.

“oh, no thank you... I—I don’t do that,” you say nervously.

he chuckles lowly, “of course you don’t…” he mutters. he looks around, noticing chris had taken off with your friend to most likely fool around in his bedroom.

matt takes in your nervous state; he shouldn’t care if you'll be fine on your own or not. the drugs in his system have already been fucking with his head, but the thought of a pretty innocent girl being all on her own didn’t sit right with him—or maybe he was already making you his… and matt hates when people take what’s his.

“sit. lemme keep you some company, yeah? you...your uh friend dipped. can’t have a quiet little angel all by herself in a place like this.”

you clear your throat as you slowly make your way next to him. being this close to him makes your head foggy; he’s intimidating, and the scent of his spicy cologne mixed with a hint of weed doesn’t help either. he’s got this…thing that creates an unfamiliar warm fuzzy feeling in your core. 

you play with the hem of your skirt as you sit inches away from him, rubbing your slick thighs together. the action doesn’t go unnoticed by matt, his imagination running wild, wanting to throw you over his shoulder and into his bed. his cock hard as a rock just imagining your pouty face as he eats your sweet cunt out. 

matt runs a hand through his brown hair, trying to shake off the dirty things he wants to do to you. he places his rough, clasped hand on your knee. it’s light and gentle, yet it doesn't help the growing fire in your tummy.

“easy, sweetheart… i'm gonna be honest, angel,” he rubs your thigh in an up-and-down motion, going as high as where the end of your skirt touches his fingertips.

 “that thing you’re doin’… ‘s’makin’ me think some things… naughty things.” 

you stop the action immediately, your skin filling up with goosebumps as his hand moves to your inner thigh, not that close where you need him but close enough that matt could feel the heat. glancing at him with those big eyes, you mutter a little ‘sorry.’ 

matt squeezes your thigh, his mind too caught up in the way you’re nervously biting on your bottom lip, “relax, babydoll. jus’ sit back and be a good girl, yeah? i got you, angel.” 

he smirks slyly when you nod again. swallowing thickly, you relax your shoulders and sit back. matt’s hand moves higher, up your soft skin when your skirt rises. “there we go, gooood girl,” he praises, his smirk growing wider. he leans in, his hot breath fanning your ear, “y'know...i think we’re gonna get along jus’ well, angel.”

© 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗌𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗍

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a/n: been in my drafts for so long, i can’t keep hiding there. also feel free to send me some inbox’s about these two!

TAGS: @mbbsgf

[imujings]

[l.jh] home for new year’s

synopsis. | it’s the new year, and you and jihoon have some cleaning to do.

♯ pairing(s). | lee jihoon x gn!reader, platonic!svt & gn!reader ♯ genre(s). | fluff & established relationship ♯ wc. | 1.8k ♯ warnings. | drunk soonyoung, svt’s chaotic antics, reader is shorter than jihoon, brief shirtless jihoon (yeah this is a warning), domestic fluff …

jay's musings. | hii this is my first fic teehee. i’m soo normal about woozi. tysm @wheeboo for cheering me on with writing c: hoping to write more in the future! <3

“You sure you’ll be alright?” Seungcheol asks, his hands full of various gift bags of different sizes.

He’s standing in the doorway of your flat, his puffy winter coat already on, but he looks ready to sacrifice everything in his arms and on his body at the moment to be elbows deep in dishes. “There’s only two of you,” he continues, his eyes wide with concern. “All together we’d be fourteen, and cleaning would be so much easier.”

A woozy and abrupt buuurp! sounds from behind you. There’s some shuffling, and Jihoon’s grimace is prominent as he leads a giggling Soonyoung to the door. The latter is singing some sort of holiday song, refusing to quiet down despite the exasperated laugh your boyfriend lets out at his antics. Outside, you can hear the warm calls of goodbyes of the others, accompanied by the soft shutting of car doors and the hum of their engines.

Your smile is easygoing, leaning against the foyer’s small closet door. “You’ve already done enough, Cheol,” you insist. “All Jihoon and I have to do is rinse the wine glasses and the food trays. We’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Plus,” your hand flies to your mouth to hide the smile that appears as Soonyoung dramatically collapses against the front door, his head thudding against the material. “I’m not sure if everyone is truly in… the right state to help.”

As if on cue, your endearingly intoxicated friend begins to belt hysterically about lost love, reaching for Jihoon who’s desperately backing away, his own hands clutching to his sides with laughter. Seungcheol scrunches his eyes shut as if he could magically will away the younger man. The echoes of Soonyoung’s singing ring in the stairwell of your flat’s complex, not going ignored by those who have already left. You swear you can hear Seungkwan’s harmonies and Seokmin’s adlibs from up here.

Bidding a final farewell, you watch as Jihoon and Seungcheol carefully guide your friend down the stairwell to the car that’s waiting down below, Joshua in the driver’s seat to take Soonyoung back to his house. Your eyes meet Jihoon’s, crinkling at the corners when he huffs out that he’ll be right back.

It’s unnervingly quiet when you click the door to your flat shut. Turning to the now empty space, a hushed, relaxed puff leaves your lips. The guys were sober enough—save for Soonyoung, apparently—to help clean up to the best of their abilities. Your TV is still on, some old reruns of a sitcom droning on in the background as you finish straightening up the throws on the couch. A soft, cream tufted pillow lays fallen from its place on the lovechair, where only hours before Wonwoo had been lying lazily with Jeonghan against him, the two watching with amused eyes at Seungkwan and Chan’s rap battle. Picking it up, you roll your eyes at finding a crumpled napkin filled with messy tally marks underneath. Ah. Jun’s record of how many times Hansol had goose-laughed during the night.

Giggles bubble out of your mouth before you can stop them. You miss them all already.

Padding softly to the kitchen, you thank the stars that your friends were kind enough to assist in cleaning up. You vaguely remember Mingyu laying the food trays in the sink and stacking their respective warmers away, blessing him a safe drive home and a charger that works without having to angle it weirdly. Fourteen wine glasses ready to be washed were neatly tucked on the counter next to the trays. Luck was on your side, you suppose.

Rolling up the sleeves of your sweater, you let autopilot take over, barely tuning in to hear the sound of the front door unlocking and clinking shut again.

You feel him before you see him and smile.

Jihoon's arms snake around your waist as you turn on the faucet and begin to scrub the glasses. You feel his forehead rest in the space between your shoulder blades, letting the vibration of his soft groan flow through you.

“I am never letting you convince me to host a get-together ever again,” he complains.

There’s no real threat to his words. “You enjoyed it,” you reply with a hum, not as a question but as a statement.

The rinsed wine glasses are placed onto the drying mat upside-down. He pauses, before letting go of your waist and reaching for the towel that rests on the handle of the dishwasher. As he starts to dry off the wine glasses, his hip bumps against yours good-naturedly. “It’s a miracle they didn’t leave the place a mess.”

It’s silent for a little. You take this time to let your mind wander yet again, your gaze flitting to your boyfriend every now and then. You’ve always loved this about Jihoon—his pure dedication to a task. There’s a rawness and undoubted authenticity to his movements, his tongue poking out a little in concentration as he wipes the glasses dry.

Shaking your hands to rid them of water, you giggle as you pass him by to your next chore. You can’t help it, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, laughing louder when his cheeks warm to that familiar shade of cherry that you adore.

However, your mood solemns rather fast. Moving to the counter, you frown as you stare down at the mugs, and then up at the top cupboard shelf. Your gaze drops back down to the cups.

“Ji,” you sigh. “Were these mugs from the top shelf or below?”

“The top shelf,” Jihoon answers easily.

Your frown deepens. You stand fruitlessly on your tiptoes, barely being able to place the mug on the top shelf without it falling back over the side.

“I think I’m too short to reach it.”

He doesn’t even look over from his new location of wiping down the dinner table, humming softly. His tone isn’t unkind when he responds. “Yeah, I know. I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”

You two work in tandem, sometimes slipping in light conversation about new gossip the two of you had attained from the party. There’s a tiredness to your movements that’s matched by the man, but you both easily sidestep one another when moving about in the kitchen, picking up where the other left off in a task.

When you’re done, Jihoon looks just about ready to topple over. “I'm never doing this again,” he mutters, eyeing the clock on the wall who’s hands are about to strike twelve and three.

You lean against him and press another soft, lingering kiss to his cheek. “This is the second time you’ve said this now. We don’t have to if you really don’t wanna, but I think you had more fun than you’re letting on.”

Preening, Jihoon gladly leans into your touch, his tone softening. “Still… maybe not next year. We just need a bigger place; our flat is too small to have twelve guests. Plus us.”

Something in you warms at the thought of moving out of your tiny place and into a proper house, a proper home, with Jihoon. Maybe it’s the wine Minghao had convinced you to try (and then had a good few more glasses of, but you would never admit that to him), but as you make a noise of agreement, you try and fail to imagine a home without Jihoon. Home is more than where you sleep for the night, you muse. It’s his toothbrush next to yours on the bathroom sink counter. It’s his hoodies hanging neatly next to your sweaters in your bedroom closet. It’s him, calling your name in that sweet lilt of his, before planting an equally sweet kiss on your lips. Home is Jihoon.

You brush hair out of your eyes, and before you know it, you’re moving together towards your shared room. You call dibs on washing up first, to which Jihoon rolls his eyes and scoffs before pushing you lightly into the unlit space.

“One day,” you murmur as you come out of the bathroom and sit on the edge of the bed, yawning and watching him lazily change into comfier clothes. “One day we’ll have our own place. And a cat, too.”

Jihoon glances back at you with amusement in his eyes, his face relaxed, the tension in his shoulders releasing. He tosses you a shirt of his that lands awkwardly in your lap before disappearing into the bathroom. Squirming out of your clothes and into what you argue is a much more comfortable shirt, you breathe in his unmistakable scent and scroll through your phone, exhaustion starting to creep up on you.

Your eyes flicker up to your boyfriend when he re-emerges, cheeks heating at his lack of shirt, hair disheveled from washing his face. You’ll never get used to it, no matter how many nights you spend together. His insistence of sleeping without a shirt never ended in your complaints, but the sight still left you a little dry-mouthed, swallowing thickly as you turn your phone off and tug the blanket over your tired form. The mattress dips below Jihoon’s knee as he crawls into the bed, slotting against you perfectly. His skin is pleasantly warm.

“Thank you for helping me clean up,” you brush your nose against his and smile.

Jihoon’s breath tingles lightly against your cheek, his tone sluggish as he mumbles against your skin. The only light on now is the one from your digital alarm clock, emitting a tender glow into the room that has you sighing contentedly.

“Why wouldn’t I help? I hosted it, too.”

“I know,” you whisper back playfully, going to tuck your face into the crook of his neck. “And I appreciate you. You did well today.”

He knows the hidden meaning behind your words. And I hope you know you mean the world to me. I love you.

The heater clicks on, warm air beginning to blow from the vents in the corners of your shared bedroom. There’s a comfortable lull, sleep pressing you gently in waves, coaxing you to finally disappear under the surface of reality and into the dream world below. All you can focus on is the slow of Jihoon’s breath, his touch inviting, longing, and full of love. Your Jihoon. Your home.

“You did well today, too. Get some sleep,” he kisses your hair, your mind already surrendering to the bliss that sleep is.

I love you, too. Please love yourself the way I love you.

[jjslvt]

SLEEPY BOY SEEKS (YOU) COMFORT ── .✦ fluff, a lil suggestive? .ᐟ.ᐟ [bsf!jj x fem!reader]

note: i think i suck at fluff btw asdfghjkl. maybe smut is more my thing lmao? gah. i’m not happy with this one

best friend!jj who crashes at your place after a hard party or a bad run in with someone (his father or the kooks). it’s always your place he feels safe at and he ends up passing out on your couch, just glad to be there

bsf!jj who is still knocked out while you wake up in the morning. going over to your living room to see his face buried in the couch, that messy blond hair more of a mess (hot) and the blanket only covering his lower half (yes, he is shirtless)

you going over to him because you wanna cover up the other half and make him warm & snug. you do it carefully and quietly to not stir him (and also try not drool at his upper body because that’s your damn best friend)

bsf!jj who has this weird sixth sense for you, even in his sleep so when you’re done pulling the blanket up and try to walk away, he lifts his head a little & turns it — eyes still closed and a strangled noise coming out as he reaches out a hand, searching

you turn around and confusion gets etched on your face when you see the seemingly asleep best friend now frantically moving that hand, as if needing something. his fingers stretched out, grasping air and an annoyed sound came out of him

bsf!jj rolling onto his back, still with closed eyes looking like a state of distress because his hand just can’t grab what it’s seeking which worries you. making you think if he’s having a nightmare or what

you coming back close to him, not figuring out what he needs so you just put your hand near his and when he feels it then grabs it, he is IMMEDIATELY relaxing. that look of frustration is gone and you feel him squeezing your hand

bsf!jj who’s confusing you (but you don’t mind because you’ve had a big fat crush on him for a while) and pulling you close, now that he’s holding your hand in his large one. making your eyes widen as you stumbled a bit. you stutter out his name to wake him, “j- jj? jay, wake up!”

bsf!jj who grumbles and tugs you so hard that you end up falling over his chest, laying on it with a furious blush. you hear him mumble, “mm no, jus’ stay…” and then he’s moving way too swiftly. in a second, he’s sitting up causing you to stand back up but he tugs so damn hard. forcing you onto to his lap (his eyes still closed btw) while he buries his face into your midriff

bsf!jj who had groaned, using all his strength to get you two into that position despite being partially sleepy. his hands (which you loved way too much) were now holding onto your waist as you straddled him and felt your heart just about to explode at the unexpected situation

you two had close moments but this was definitely a new one, taking the cake. for a moment, words couldn’t even leave your mouth as you were stunned. especially with how his face was nuzzled right in

then finally you let out, “jj… what are you doing! are you awake?”

he let out an unintelligible response that you didn’t even understand. all you felt was him suddenly holding tighter and pulling you closer. impossibly close (boy, is he clingy) and hot, deep and content sounding breaths felt through your thin, tight tank top

bsf!jj who felt himself getting overwhelmingly possessive now, refusing to let up. he was awake… tired but awake and in bliss as your scent filled his nostrils. he wasn’t going to let you know he was fully awake. not just yet

“jj-! wa-“ you panicked but he cut you off

“mine.” he barely whispered, sleepy toned & all

that one word had you stopping whatever you wanted to say (or scold him with). he just kept on surprising you

“w-what?”

“mine… stay... need you.” he nuzzled more then started moving his face closer to your cleavage — your heart was skyrocketing

“smells good… so soft”

suddenly his hands were running up your sides tenderly but firmly as he leaned back more on the couch, taking you with him — face stilled buried in your chest, his breath on your skin. he heard you gasp at that and smirked to himself

bsf!jj who decides enough is enough because he magically got the confidence to press a kiss near your collarbone and finally make all these moves — as if he woke up a new man today

you shivered and he felt it, pressing another kiss to make you squirm a bit more as he relished it

“you’re awake, aren’t you…”

he chuckled softly against your skin, opening his eyes with the smirk growing as he started trailing light kisses up your neck then jawline, “maybe”

“cheeky… shit”

“what? you’re not stopping me though, are ya?” his tone soft and teasing, lips directly against your ear now after the path of kisses

“…”

“that’s what i thought.” his hands ran soothingly up and down your back as he moved his face away from your ear so he could finally look at you. staring with those ocean eyes you adored

he looked beautiful when he woke up though he was still somewhat tired, you could yell — as last night was probably rough for him but he was happy right now and forgot about it all

“i didn’t think you’d want…”

“want what? you?” he grabbed your chin with a hand, thumb stroking the bottom of your lip and his gaze half-lidded, “of course i do. you’re gorgeous, you make me feel… safe. hell, so comfortable and at… fuckin’ home”

“i’ve liked you for a long time and i think you might like me too”

your lips trembled a little at the touch but you nodded, “… you are thinking correctly. i like you, jj”

and in true jj fashion — he was too excited to talk more once you confessed back so he moved his thumb away, pressing his lips to yours quickly, mumbling a ‘thank fuckin’ god’ against them as you were so sweet to him

you two had fallen over during the kiss, cuddling the hell outta each other, snuggling up with eyes closed and just relaxing. slightly taking a half-nap because as hungry as he was for you, he truly appreciated you and decided to take it slow. this time (plus he could definitely do with a bit more sleep)

he was just happy for the truths to come out and for a new journey with you to begin because…

“ain’t ever letting you go, babygirl”

[sturniolo04]

TOUCHY M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader

Summary: in which Matt is extremely touchy.

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

It's not an unknown fact that your boyfriend Matt's love language is physical touch. Any chance he can touch you in any way, he will find a way. Whether it be holding your hand as far as him or even putting his hand in the back pocket of your pants.

Fortunately for me today was one of those days that his physical touch need was on a max requirement, the only problem is we have a fully busy day.

"Matt come on we have to get up we are filming today"

"nooo just five more mintues"

he states bringing your body closer to his in his warm bed

"matt i gave you like 10"

you huff out, trying to wiggle out of his tight grip around you. Eventually, succeeding which resulted in a groan from your boyfriend admitting his defeat.

"come on move your butt"

you state playfully ruffling his messy brown hair, and heading into his bathroom to get ready for the day.

You finally got out of the shower, walking back out to the main room to you and Matt's shared closet, trying to decide ultimately what you wanted to wear for the rest of the day. In doing so, your back was turned to the bed not realizing that your boyfriend, with his clingy self, making his way to your figure only covered in a towel.

Matt finally reaches you standing in the closet, proceeding to grip your hips suddenly, yanking you backward and colliding with his crotch and chest.

"MATTT I DONT HAVE ANY CLOTHES ON YET"

you squeal giggling. As he wraps both of his toned tattooed arms around your chest, squeezing your breasts, as you place your hands on top of his arms around you, nuzzling his head in your neck.

"You dont need them for what we are about to do"

he states smugly as he leaves kisses on your neck, as you giggle in the process through the fact his kisses tickle your skin slightly.

"Mattheww, you are going to get us in trouble"

you exclaim leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"So.."

he trails off as you turn around in his arms, staring seriously into your boyfriend's blue orbs.

"So, we have to leave in 20 minutes to get to our meeting with Laura"

you state as your boyfriend gives you a unphased look.

"so get in the shower"

"Are you lovebirds ready yet we are going to be late, LET"S GO"

We all finally managed to get to our meeting with Laura and during the meeting, Matt couldn't keep his hands off of you still. Whether it be gripping your leg under the conference table or even slightly touching your shoulder as he reaches to grab something on the table.

Once our meeting was over, we headed to Target to refill our groceries in the house.

"Chris do we really need that much Pepsi"

he exclaims already ready to go home after a long day, wanting to just finally have his girlfriend close to him.

"yes what kind of stupid fucking question is that"

Chris argues with his brother.

"Chris just put them in the cart please"

you state simply trying to avoid an altercation. Heading out of the aisle with the triplets following behind.

After a little while you wandered off with Matt into the makeup aisle of Target. Matt bored out of his mind lets out a deep sigh, gaining your attention.

"you okay"

you simply state still focused on finding the products you were out of at home. As your boyfriend makes his way closer to you, slipping his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, slightly gripping your ass through them.

"how much longer till we go home"

"almost done my love then you can have my full attention"

you state as he sighs patting your ass lovingly, and proceeding to go look for Nick and Chris.

You guys finally get back home, you and Matt wandering back into your shared room in the house.

"Oh my hi"

you exclaim quietly as Matt lifts you off of the ground kissing your supple lips as you place your hands on the sides of his face, deepening the kiss.

" hi.. i missed you"

matt says finally breaking the kiss.

"i was with you all day baby what do you mean"

you giggle out, caressing his cheeks in your hand looking in his blue orbs filled with love.

"yeah but i just wanted to be close to you"

he states simply giving your lips another quick sweet kiss as you giggle into his lips.

"just touchy today hm"

you state back, finally wrapping your arms around his neck tightly as he hugs your waist in the same position you were currently in.

A/N: leave requests in my inbox if you want a specific type of story 💗

Taglist

@mintsturniolo @adirtylittleheart @wh0resstuff

[prael]

An Oral Agreement

QWER Magenta x male reader

Masterlist word count: 3,008 Kofi(donations/commissions)

She's equal parts infuriating and fascinating.

Magenta.

No last name. Or maybe that is her last name. Either way, that's all it said on the rental agreement and her bedroom door when you first moved in: Magenta. The letters were all lowercase like she was too cool for proper grammar. You know Magenta, in the Biblical sense (and it didn’t take long).

She's always in her room streaming or recording or...doing whatever it is social media influencers do when they aren't online. But she likes candles, fried rice and catcore aesthetics. She thinks pumpkin spice season starts September 1st and she loves reality TV. Not exactly the makings of a deep and spiritual connection.

Now, living with Magenta, well, it has its ups and downs.

There are some things that never get done around here without you doing them; she rarely cooks, which wouldn't bother you so much if she at least did dishes once in a while. It doesn't help that she takes long hot showers. In a house with only one bathroom, this can really put a cramp in your morning routine.

Magenta doesn't clean the place very often either. At first, you just let it go because everybody has their own ways of doing things, right? But after a few weeks of living together, you realised that she's just...not going to do it. Like ever. So then there's nothing for it but to either live in a constant state of messiness or bite the bullet yourself.

Sometimes you feel like you're not living with a roommate so much as providing lodging for some kind of freeloading spirit that passes through periodically.

When you first moved in, you were worried about what your roommate might think of you: would they be weirded out by your habits? Would they judge your taste in decorations? Would you get along? Would you have enough space for both of you?

Those fears melted away pretty quickly once you met her. You could tell from the moment she opened the door that day (and didn't even look up from her phone) that she didn’t care.

You soon learned that Magenta is messy but friendly. She stays up all night and sleeps during the day. She's everywhere online: Instagrammer, Tiktokker (is that what they call it?), live streamer or these days she’s even on the radio and TV. She doing something for one of those things right now, with her bedroom door closed and music playing faintly behind it.

You're standing in the kitchen, staring down her latest infringement. Now, these empty take-out boxes were here this morning when you left. They were also here last night, and yesterday afternoon, and...you get where this is going.

"Hey, you awake in there?!" you shout towards her bedroom but get no response.

With a sigh, you walk over to her door and knock. Twice. Then again, louder when you still get no response. Finally, you resort to pounding on it repeatedly until it suddenly swings open to reveal your roommate shouting, "What!?" You step back, slightly taken aback by how loudly she said that single word. Her eyes soften instantly, though when they land on you.

She looks good. Not even just in a 'good for someone who hasn't slept yet today' kind of way. Just straight-up hot. Magenta wears a faded pink crop top emblazoned with an anime character and little cut-off cotton shorts covered in cookie prints. The low waistband of the shorts hangs off her hips, exposing the start of a light purple thong that cuts diagonally across her hip bones.

"I think our apartment might get condemned if you don't clean sometime soon."

Your roommate leans against the door frame. She pushes some dark brown hair behind her ear as she says, "Can't you do it for me? Just this once?"

"Just this once?" you repeat, crossing your arms. Your lips curl into a smile as you ask back to her, "Can't you do it just this once?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm always reminding you to clean, and you never do it. So guess who does it? It's not the magical cleaning fairy—it's me."

Her eyes roll skyward so forcefully you imagine you can hear them squeaking in their sockets.

"Why are you giving me such a hard time about this?" she says. "This seems really petty."

"It's not petty," you protest. "I have stuff to do and I shouldn't have to keep picking up after my adult roommate." You say the word 'adult' laden with implications. She gets your meaning immediately. Her lips twist.

"oh, I get it," she says with a smirk. "I guess it's been a while since I gave you a little thank you. Well, I need to get this video finished, so could you maybe clean it up and come back here after?"

So there's the perks. Two of them actually, as she pulls up her pink crop top and flashes you what's beneath. A pair of purple lace bra cups strain to contain your roommate's ample endowment. Pale skin pours out from beneath them, flesh squeezing together into a deep cleavage that entices you closer even as you shake your head.

"You can't keep pulling tricks like this, Magenta," you say, trying desperately to hold onto your train of thought while also enjoying the view. It helps that you know those breasts intimately. Hell, you've worshipped those breasts. They've spilt around your hands, smothered your face and laid upon your thighs. You know what the soft warmth inside each cup feels like. And, God, they feel really fucking good.

"I really appreciate your help and everything," she says, her bottom lip suddenly pushing out into a cute pout that goes well beyond suggestive. "And I'd like to show you just how much I appreciate it..."

Your resolve lasts right up until Magenta runs a finger down one of her tits to tease along the edge of the lacy purple material. That's when you give up. There's no point in fighting anymore—she has won this battle (just like all others).

"Just go finish your work already," you finally say, letting out a sigh.

Magenta smiles and giggles, lowering her shirt. "Thanks. Love ya!"

With a wink, she slips back into her room. You stand alone for several seconds before shaking your head. Back to cleaning, then.

-

It's not exactly easy to focus on sorting the recycling into the correct bins when your roommate has just reminded you how nice her tits are. They're on your mind a lot, to be honest. More than they should be probably. Sometimes they're on your cock, though not as often as they should be. Probably.

You're counting your blessings that none of the neighbours are doing late-night recycling because then you'd have to explain why your face is red and your pants are bulging.

That doesn't stop the occasional glance towards your neighbour's house, where Mrs Kim likes to smoke on her front porch some nights. You think she smokes more than she should, but that's really none of your business. Her watching you from across the street, however, is very much your business, so you peek over your shoulder once in a while to check if she's spying. Again. Or still. Whatever.

One last box. The light outside is fading rapidly, but you can just barely make out that it comes from...the Greek place you love?

Oh. Oh no. Did she eat gyros and not bring you any? Damn, that girl knows how to be cruel!

When the recycling is finally squared away you dust off your hands. It's a symbolic gesture since all you've done is shove cardboard and glass into the right bins, but it makes you feel accomplished nonetheless.

Back in the apartment and lock the door behind you.

"There you are. Where have you been?"

"The bins, have you ever seen them before?" You mock while still fiddling with the lock chain.

"That was quick," comes her response. Your eyes follow the sound of her voice. Magenta is lying upside-down on the couch. She swings her feet lazily in the air while looking at something on her phone. Her dark hair cascades nearly to the floor. Those short shorts mean you can see most of her long legs. Then there's the curve of her hip, the crease of her thigh... "Get over here."

It's a rare occasion that Magenta voluntarily puts her phone down, yet she does just that as you walk over. The closer you get, the more enticing her position becomes: laying across the couch, head tipped backwards off the cushions to watch you approach her.

"So," she says. Her fingertips brush over the exposed skin of her belly. The fingers trace lines up and across her abdomen, moving between the edge of her shorts and her top. The motion catches your eye—and she knows it. "I owe you, don't I?" Her eyelids flutter innocently. Or rather, far less than innocently.

"For today? Yeah. Definitely." You clear your throat and try again, "For quite a few days, actually."

"Quite a few," she echoes in agreement. Her hand continues to crawl upward until it reaches the peak of her breasts rising beneath her faded pink crop top. The movement presses the supple skin together in a way that has you standing right in front of her before you even realize you've walked over.

She pushes them hard together before letting them settle back to normal. Gravity spreads them apart, flesh pouring across her chest from the tightly gathered fabric keeping them barely contained. She reaches out over her head, to you, and grabs you by the belt buckle. Pulls you forward until you are stood over her. Even though she's upside down, she makes such effortless work of unbuckling the leather strap that you barely notice. One second it's on; the next it's flapping loose.

It takes only two sharp tugs to force your pants and boxers down past your knees. Magenta doesn't waste any time reaching out to touch your cock, gently running her hands over it until she can wrap her entire hand around the warm shaft and pull you until you fall to your knees. Her head hangs right in front your your length, and you see the teasing sparkle in her eye even upside down.

Her hot breath hits the skin of your bare cock. Lips press a series of soft, wet kisses down from your tip towards your balls. Then back up again, trailing even more tiny pecks that leave your skin tingling. You let your cock nudge against her cheek, feeling it slide along the smooth skin.

With both hands wrapped around your cock, Magenta holds your tip right in front of her mouth. Her tongue sticks out from between her lips, slowly, methodically lapping circles around the crown of your cock.

"Oh, God," you mutter, and you need to hold onto something, anything. First, it's the couch, then it's her tits.

Your hand lands heavily atop the nearest swell of flesh and squeezes tight, pushing it further out of her crop top. She hums approvingly at the groping and wraps her lips around your cockhead. Suckles sweetly. Slurps noisily until spit pools at the corner of her stretched lips.

She lets gravity help guide your cock into her waiting mouth. The further you slip inside, the more she relaxes her jaw to accept you. But then she reaches up and pulls on your hips. You glide up against her grateful tongue. Until her nose meets your stomach. She gags. It's so fucking lewd.

The whole thing makes you squeeze her chest harder. So big in your palm and yet somehow always bigger than you remember. You forget sometimes just how incredible these tits are. When they bounce in a video she's recorded, you remember—but never quite how heavy they are when you hold them; the way they give to your grasp in exactly the right amount; or the way her nipple puckers just slightly as it stiffens beneath your kneading grip.

"You're so sexy like this," you say.

The compliment elicits an appreciative groan from Magenta. Her head moves with your hips now, bobbing to meet each thrust, spit dripping down her cheeks. The messiness of the sloppy blowjob matches her other personality traits frighteningly well.

With her head pinned and her arms on you, you're free to pull up her shirt and expose her. The dirty minx has taken off her bra, so the expanse of her milky skin greets you. You cup them in each palm, feeling the heft of them, squeezing them greedily. They push back, moulding into the shape of your desire, and she moans, a low guttural note vibrating right through your length.

Her body writhes beneath your attention. Her thighs spread outwards, feet rolling at the ankle in time with each gently guided thrust into her throat. Fingers squeeze you, scratching lightly at the skin above your ass to encourage you deeper inside her hungry maw. Deeper into her throat until she chokes—

You let up, panting, admiring the sight of her stretched out for your viewing pleasure. Her eyes flutter open, looking up at you from her upside-down position. The intensity in them draws you in again.

"Oh shit," you groan as you drive into her, plunging your cock balls deep until her purple-painted nails dig into the small of your back. You pump faster, lost in the warm embrace of her greedy sucking.

Magenta squirms beneath you, whining and groaning and bucking, begging you for more. Her cunt must be throbbing with anticipation. Poor thing wants your cum. You can tell.

You want her tits.

She gasps when you fully withdraw from her mouth. Her face is a fucking mess of saliva and smudged makeup. Before she can question you, you reposition yourself in front of her, straddling her beautiful face as you lower your rigid length between her breasts.

She's quick to pick up what you're putting down. With both hands pressing the creamy flesh of her boobs inward, she creates a tunnel for you to slide your dick into.

It feels as good as it looks. Soft pressure envelops your slick length, wrapping around the sensitive skin and creating a delightful sleeve for you to hump into. You can't get enough.

As soon as you hit a good pace, fucking your roommate's chest hard and fast, she starts giggling.

"What?" you ask.

"It tickles." Her laugh is breathy but not as loud as it usually is. "Keep going."

So you do. Thrust after thrust you plunge deeper, drawing more and more of yourself into the valley between her perfect tits. The more you use her, the further she parts her legs that run up the back of the sofa. Soft thighs splayed for nothing but display. Then, just as you start to admire them, she clenches them together. Your eyes trace down the pale skin until they arrive at her crotch where the bottoms of her cookie-patterned shorts have ridden up against her wet slit. She's gyrating her hips in all sorts of directions and rubbing herself against the material in some attempt to satiate her growing needs.

The soft flesh of her midriff jiggles between the thrusting into her tits and the twisting of her hips below. You can't stop staring. Fuck. How does this girl have every single curve?

At first, you try holding back—you want this to last longer. But after a few seconds, you realize you can't fight this feeling. Not when you've got such a good view. And certainly not with her nipples so hard under the press of your thumbs. She arches up when you pinch them, and you know you're done for.

And then, as if she can feel it by the way you're thrusting, she begins to coo and beg under you. She knows she's getting you close, and she wants it. Bad.

"Cum on me," she coaxes sweetly, the words barely audible over the slapping sounds. "I've been so bad, baby. You deserve to paint my body."

That's all it takes. That final little plea. Your eyes roll back, your hips snap forward and your cock explodes. Thick ropes over her body, the first reaching her thighs before you adjust your aim and finish across the plane of her belly. Soft curves take your load while she encourages you through soft, little pleasured mewls. You may have got some on her shorts, but you paint her stomach white before pulling up and jerking the final drops onto her chest.

"Mmmm, messy boy," Magenta laughs breathlessly as your cum drips down her curves. She lays there beneath you, her smile wide and wickedly innocent, one hand slowly running circles over the sticky mess on her tummy, smearing it across her skin.

After a few seconds of panting and trying to gather yourself, you climb off of her and sit back against the couch. She turns so her head rests in your lap, facing your spent and dripping length. Magenta teases you still by using her own fingertip to collect your seed and place it across her lips, then licking them clean while making sure you're watching. And fuck are you ever.

"So, about my room," she purrs, eyes twinkling mischievously up at you.

"What about it?"

"Well... It needs cleaning, and I was thinking—"

"No," you feign protest, knowing you've already agreed. "Just clean it yourself." Her negotiation will come next. You can see it on her lips. "I'm not doing it."

Magenta leans up and whispers, "But you might change your mind if you find out what's waiting for you beneath my shorts."

That damn purple thong, still visible at her waistband, calls you toward her like a beacon. "What's beneath your shorts?"

Her laugh is playful. A little shrug as her fingers toy at the hem of the garment in question. "Agree to clean my room and you’ll find out."

[willowsnook]

i need you back

Charles leclerc x wolff!reader

request from @dovesboccianoifiori

—--------------------------------------

“I can’t do this anymore, Charles,” you said, tears streaming down your face as you stood by the front door of his Monaco apartment with your suitcases. Your boyfriend stood broken in front of you, eyes begging you not to leave. 

“Please, y/n, it will get better,” he tried to reason, but you laughed, shaking your head. 

“You don’t get it, Charlie, you don’t get it because you’re the prince of Ferrari; everyone loves you. You don’t have people constantly commenting on your appearance, what you say, what you wear, or anything you like on social media. They hate me because they love you,” you finished sadly. “I love you more than you could ever know, but I also love myself.”

“I love you,” he whispered, bringing his hand up to your cheek. You leaned it to it gently before pressing one last kiss on his lips and leaving. 

You cried the whole way to the airport, feeling like you had ripped your own heart out, but you knew this was for the best. It had been a long time since you were really happy; the hate you consistently got had finally broken you down, and you knew you needed to be alone to build yourself back up. Charles hadn’t done anything wrong, but he also didn’t get it, so it was frustrating when you didn’t feel like you had anyone to talk to about it with. 

This would be good for you.

—------------------------

It had been a couple of months since your breakup with Charles, and though it still stung, you were adapting. You moved back to your family’s estate in Vienna and had connected with a bunch of old friends who were getting you through. 

You hadn’t seen Charles since you left, but according to social media, he wasn’t out in public often. He looked half-alive in the PR videos Ferrari had been posting. He had tried calling you a lot the first month, but now it was silent between you. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” your dad said, knocking on your bedroom door. You were snuggled up in your blankets, watching a movie. 

“Hi, dad,” you greeted softly. His face looked around the room in concern, not used to the messy state it was currently in. 

“Why don’t you come to the race with me this weekend?” He asked. “I think it will be good for you.” 

“I don’t know…,” you trailed off. 

“Come on honey, F1 is yours too,” he said, and you thought about it. You had missed being in the paddock for race weekends these past months. He was right; Charles didn’t own F1, and you were allowed to enjoy it. 

“Okay,” you said, agreeing, and Toto smiled. 

—----------------Belgian GP—--------------------------

The hot sun beat down on you as you stepped into the paddock, dressed in Mercedes colors. You made it a couple of feet before the eyes got to you, making you falter. It felt like everyone was looking at you, and you started to panic.

“Keep moving forward,” a voice said from next to you, pushing you forward. You gave Lewis a grateful smile as he fell into step with you. 

“I thought it would be easier,” you murmured to him. 

“It’s just because it’s your first race back,” he told you. “They’ll move on to the next thing in a few days.”

His words comforted you as you walked with him. Smiling at familiar faces and ignoring the flashes from cameras. Your dad was waiting for you in the garage, and he gave Lewis a nod of appreciation as you approached. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted you. “Excited for today?” 

“Yeah,” you told him with a genuine smile. “Is Kimi here?” 

“Yeah, he’s on his side,” your dad said, waving you off. You and Kimi had grown close when he joined as a reserve driver since your dad was obsessed with him, so he was around a lot. You were closer to him in age than George, so your friendship was natural. 

Kimi lit up when he saw you jogging over to you, and you giggled. 

“Hi Kimi,” you sai,d and he wrapped his arms around you, spinning you around. 

“Ciao Bella,” he said, happy to see you. “I’m so glad you are here.” 

“Me too,” you said, smiling. 

“I need to see someone at Williams. Will you come with?” He asked, and you nodded. The two of you set out and you were temporarily distracted from your sadness until you spotted him. 

He came to a stop, mid-conversation with Carlos as he saw you. Carlos followed his line of sight, and his eyes looked pained when he saw you. 

Your heart raced as you locked eyes with Charles. He looked thinner, his usually vibrant green eyes now dull and rimmed with dark circles. The world seemed to stand still for a moment as you both stared at each other across the paddock.

Kimi noticed your sudden tension and followed your gaze. "Ah, merda," he muttered under his breath. He gently touched your lower back, ready to steer you away if needed.

Charles took a hesitant step forward, his expression a mixture of hope and heartbreak. But before he could approach, Carlos grabbed his arm and whispered something in his ear. Charles reluctantly nodded, casting one last longing look in your direction before allowing Carlos to lead him away.

You released a shaky breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. "Thanks, Kimi," you said softly, and he smiled at you sympathetically. 

Kimi greeted another guy who appeared to be around your age as you made it to Williams. You were racking your brain trying to remember who he was, knowing he was a reserve driver. 

“Franco, this is y/n wolff,” Kimi introduced, and Franco’s eyes widened at your last name. 

“Who knew the daughter of the wolf would be so beautiful?” he said, recovering and bringing your hand up to kiss its back. You laughed as Kimi snorted, and Franco grinned at both of you. “It’s nice to meet you, y/n; Kimi has said a lot about you.”

“You too, Franco,” you said, and the three of you chatted for a bit. You instantly grew to like Franco, and his jokes and laughter made your day a little better. 

It was getting closer to practice, and Kimi had to head back to Mercedes, as he was driving George’s car, but Franco held your arm back. 

“Do you want to just stay here with me?” He asked. “I can keep you company.” 

“Sure,” you said without a second thought. You said goodbye to Kimi and hung around with Franco, interested in seeing what another team’s garage was like. 

Franco kept the conversation going with you, and at one poin,t the two of you looked at the broadcast to see yourselves on the screen. Franco grinned widely as you shied away. 

“Not a fan of the spotlight?” He teased, and you gave him an uneasy look. 

“More so, not a fan of what comes with it,” you said, and he nodded in understanding. 

“Is that why you and Charles broke up?” He asked bluntly before blushing. “Sorr,y that’s none of my business, but Kimi had mentioned it.” 

“It’s okay,” you told him. “But yeah, I was pretty much getting ripped apart every day online so I needed a break.” 

“I know it’s easier said than done,” he stated. “But you shouldn’t even worry about what those people are saying. They are losers, and you are a beautiful girl who shouldn’t pay them attention.” 

“Thanks, Franco,” you said, tears in your eyes. He let you rest your head on his shoulder, and you were thankful that a new friendship was starting to blossom. 

—-------------------------------

You and Franco kept in touch over summer break, and you even met up when you were both in London. He quickly became one of your closest friends; you found it easy to open up to him, and he gave excellent advice. Charles was not pleased about this new development. 

“Would she really move on that quickly from me?” He asked, irritated. Carlos gave him a pointed look from across the table. He was tired of hearing Charles spiral whenever he got wind that you had hung out with Franco. 

“Rebecca said that they are just friends,” Carlos said. “She’s allowed to have friends.”

Charles scoffed, “Of course she can have friends. But why do they have to be involved in F1?” 

“Maybe because her dad is the most popular team principal, and her mom is in charge of the academy?” Carlos reasone,d but Charles wasn’t listening. 

Charles shook his head, his frustration evident. "I just don't understand. We were so happy together. How could she just move on like this?"

Carlos sighed, setting down his coffee cup. "Charles, my friend, you need to let this go. It's been months. Y/N made her decision, and you need to respect that."

"But I love her," Charles insisted, his voice cracking slightly. "I can't just forget about her."

"I'm not saying you should forget," Carlos said gently. "But you need to focus on yourself, on your racing. Obsessing over who she's spending time with isn't healthy."

Charles slumped in his seat, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. It's just... seeing her at the track, with Franco... it hurts."

Carlos reached across the table, squeezing his friend's shoulder.

—----------------------------------

You were in the Williams garage again for the weekend because it was officially Franco’s first F1 race. Monza was electric, and you couldn’t help but feel excited for Charles as well. You’d been nervous when you arrived, but many people in the Tifosi stopped you, commenting on how much they missed seeing you with Charles. It definitely was a stark contrast to what you were used to seeing online. 

You didn’t stop the happy tears from coming when you watched Charles take the podium, and Franco getting points was the cherry on top. Everyone was going out that night, and Kimi invited you to tag along as his plus one. You threw on a cute red mini-dress and headed to the upscale restaurant with Kimi. Most of the other drivers were there, and you were having a good time until you realized the girl Charles was sitting next to was clearly his plus one. 

You tried to focus on your conversation with Rebecca and Carlos, but your eyes drifted back to Charles and his date. The girl was beautiful, with long dark hair and a dazzling smile. She seemed completely at ease among the drivers and team members, laughing at their jokes and fitting in seamlessly.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Rebecca asked, noticing your distraction.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, sorry. Just a bit tired I guess."

Carlos and Rebecca exchanged a knowing look. "We can leave if you want," Carlos offered kindly.

"No, no. I'm fine," you insisted, taking a large sip of your wine. But then you looked over again to see Charles date. Right as she pressed a kiss on his cheek, it was over. Tears instantly filled your eyes, and you pushed out of your chair, ignoring people calling after you as you moved toward the exit. A sob escaped your mouth as the fresh air hit you, and two arms were quickly around you. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Carlos soothed, rubbing your back as you clung to him. 

“It hurts Carlos,” you cried, and his heart broke at the sight of you. 

“I know,” he said. 

Charles had seen you bolt out of the restaurant and was only a few paces behind Carlos on the way out. He saw you in Carlos’ arms and was very confused. 

“Y/n,” he called out your name, and you whirled on him, anger rising through your body. 

“What do you wan,t Charles?” You asked harshly. His brows furrowed at your tone. 

“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” he said, and you laughed humorlessly. 

“I’m fine, just go back to your new girlfriend,” you spat out, and he flinched before matching your anger with his own. 

“Oh, so you’re allowed to move on but I’m not?” He sneered, and you stepped towards him angrily. 

“Please enlighten me with who I’m apparently moving on with,” you snapped. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, all I see are you and Franco going out to dinner, you in the Williams garage, you with him in London.” 

“Tell me this, Charles, have you ever seen any pictures of him touching me?” You asked icily. “Pictures of him whispering into my ear like your date tonight? Or of him kissing me?” 

Charles stilled at your words, finally realizing that maybe you and Franco were just friends. But you weren’t done. 

“I can’t believe you would throw this in my face,” you seethed at him. “I still fucking love you Charles! I’m fucking miserable, and you think I just threw our whole relationship away for someone else this quickly. Do you even know me?”

Your voice cracked at the last word, and pain flashed across his face as he took another step towards you. 

Charles reached out to touch your arm; his eyes filled with regret. "Y/N, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

You jerked away from his touch, tears streaming down your face. "Don't. Just don't, Charles.”

Carlos stepped between you, placing a protective hand on your shoulder. "I think it's time for you to go back inside, Charles," he said firmly.

Charles looked like he wanted to argue, but something in Carlos' expression made him think better of it. He cast one last pained look at you before turning and heading back into the restaurant.

You sagged against Carlos, suddenly feeling drained. "I want to go home," you whispered.

"Of course," Carlos said gently. "I'll call a car for you."

As you waited for the car to arrive, you couldn't help but replay the encounter. The hurt in Charles' face burning in your mind.

—--------------------------------------

Charles was desperate to get you back. He had sent flowers, jewelry, clothes, literally anything that would make you even consider answering one of his many calls. You accepted the gifts but weren’t giving in to him yet; his words from Monza still echoing in your mind. 

You currently were in the Williams hospitality suite, grabbing a coffee with Franco, who had his precious mate. 

“I like your bracelet. Is it new?” Franco asked innocently, and you shot him a look. It was one of the many gifts from Charles that had shown up on your door this past week. 

“Thank you,” you said, not commenting on it further. Franco rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. 

“I want to show you something,” he said, and you leaned over curiously. He had a bunch of screenshots of comment sections on instagram and twitter on his phone. “I know that you got swept up in all the hate you were getting, but look closer at it; look at how many people reply to those people defending you.”

Hesitantly, you took his phone from hi,m and you scrolled through. He was right; for every one hate comment, there were at least ten telling them off and in support of you. 

Your eyes widened as you continued scrolling through Franco's phone, taking in all the supportive comments. "I... I never noticed these before," you said softly.

Franco gently took his phone back. "That's because you were too focused on the negative. But Y/N, there are so many people out there who adore you. You shouldn't let a few trolls dictate your happiness."

You nodded, feeling a mix of emotions wash over you. "Thank you for showing me this, Franco. It really means a lot."

He smiled warmly. "That's what friends are for."

Just then, your phone buzzed with a text from Charles: "Can we please talk? I miss you so much."

You stared at the message, your heart racing. Franco noticed your expression change and raised an eyebrow. "Charles again?"

You nodded, biting your lip. "He wants to talk.”

“You should meet up with him,” Franco said. “You still love him, and this break isn’t doing you or him any good. You two belong together.”

After thinking about it for a second, you decided that you agreed and texted him back, saying you could meet him in the hotel lobby this evening. 

The rest of the day went by fast, and you soon found yourself waiting on a couch for Charles in the lobby, twiddling your thumbs nervously. 

You saw Charles before he saw you. He walked into the lobby, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. His face lit up with a mixture of relief and apprehension as he approached.

"Y/N," he said softly, sitting down beside you. "Thank you for agreeing to meet me."

You nodded, your heart racing. "Of course, Charles."

There was an awkward silence for a moment, both of you unsure where to start. Finally, Charles took a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "For everything. For not understanding what you were going through, for not being there for you the way I should have been. And especially for what happened in Monza. I was jealous and hurt, and I lashed out. It was wrong of me."

You felt tears prick at your eyes. "I'm sorry too, Charlie, for running away that night in Monaco. I should have talked to you about my feelings instead of just leaving."

“I need you back y/n,” he begged. “You belong by my side, I can’t take another weekend of seeing you not in Ferrari colors.” 

You let out a small giggle at his request, and he relaxed. He reached for your hand and held it tightly, caressing your skin gently. 

“Okay,” you said softly. “I’ll come back, if you’ll have me.” 

Charles's face broke out into a grin, and he pulled you into his lap, your cheeks reddening with the embarrassment of being in public. 

“Charlie, we are in public,” you complained, nestled against his chest. 

“I don’t care, mon cheri,” he said, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.” 

For the first time in months, you felt a glimmer of hope—hope that things could be different this time. Together, you’d rebuild what was broken, stronger than before.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

déjà vu

déjà vu : a french term that translates to "already seen." It is a phenomenon where an individual feels a strong sense of familiarity or recognition with a current situation.

bnha chap. 362 n 403 spoilers ! childhood friends to lovers can you tell i'm inlove with this trope oooorrr…, angsty?? bittersweet hurt/comfort ?? fem reader, reader's height isn't specified but is shorter than katsuki's, reader gets a bit insecure but katsuki fixes that up rq, reader is very mushy n inlove with katsuki, (but aren't we all) katsuki loves reader very much in return

in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.

he thinks about primary school. you’re both ten, double digits. foolishly believing you were all grown up. katsuki’s fingers are white and dry from cleaning up the chalkboard, since you guys were tasked for clean up duty today.

or at least, you were. but your classmate suddenly vanished without a word and katsuki, as nice and helpful as he was (to you, at least) decided to stay behind to help you, don’t ask him where your cleaning buddy went, he has absolutely no idea and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.

“ y’know—” he starts, soaking the soggy sponge into the water bucket next to him, then squeezing it out. “when we’re done with this stupid school stuff, i’ll go pro.” he states, slapping the sponge onto the board, creating a loud splat noise.

you, having heard this time and time before, simply look at him and smile, placing your classmates chairs on top of their desks row by row “mhm, i know !” you grin “ 'n you’ll be number one, right ?” you’re standing in between two desks, hands playing with your uniform skirt behind your back.

“hell yeah i will !” katsuki boasts, smirking. he scrubs at the board a little more vigorously.

“bad word !” you tease, giggling as you point at him “ 'm gonna tell miss you said a cuss word again !”

he huffs, turning around to scrunch his nose up and stick his tongue out at you, you stick yours out back playfully. “as if i care ! yer too much of a wuss to snitch on me anyways.”

“no I’m not, i’ll do it right now !” katsuki rolls his red eyes at you, returning to his task and wiping the board down in a zig zag motion. “ i don’t care” he reiterates.

you pout at his back and just then get an idea you’re sure will piss him off, a cat like grin pulls at your lips.

“okaaayy … then i’ll just tell your mom !” you sing, bursting into giggles when he swiftly turns around and waves the wet sponge in your direction. he’s too far to reach you but you dodge anyway, just to mess with him.

“no you won’t.”

“yeah, i will !” you counter, blowing a raspberry at him. you both break out into a fit of giggles when he aggressively dips the sponge into the water and flicks the droplets at you once more, before he decides to close the distance and chase you around your cramped little classroom growling and screaming, threatening you with the dirty sponge.

you’re squealing and giggling and laughing, trying to fend him off with a broom and even then, at ten. then when the concept of cherishing memories of the time you spend together wasn’t even an afterthought in his mind, katsuki remembers wishing he could stay with you like this forever.

when you’re both out of breath the classroom is just as messy—if not messier than it usually is. you give eachother a look then belly laugh some more.

you’re picking up chairs again and katsuki’s helping you, so it goes even faster. you don’t wanna go home because you won’t be seeing him anymore, but you have to admit your eager to finish and leave school.

katsuki’s back is to you on the second row and he can’t see you looking at him from the back row, he decides it’s time he says what he wanted to say before you got distracted. he clutches the legs of the chair he’s holding a little tighter.

“hey,” his voice comes suddenly in the quiet, it surprises you a little, you hum in response “ 'm really gonna go pro when we’re done with school, y’know.” he insisted.

you tilt your head wearily, looking at him with his back still turned to you. “yeah, i know.” you respond “you said that already.” you’re confused, he can’t hear the scrapping noise of the wooden chairs anymore, it’s annoyingly too quiet now.

“ you’re coming with me” he pauses, turning to you a little so you catch a peak of his quickly reddening face. it sounds like a statement but even then you know better. you don’t miss a beat, nodding furiously “uhuh, always !” his cheeks flare up more as he turns fully towards you. he walks over until the only thing separating you is the desk in between. he turns his back to you again to lean against the desk seperating you both.

“you’ll be with me, and we’ll be pro's together” he maintained. he feels his chest tighten when you offer him more of your pretty bright smiles and nods, you smile at him the way he knows you don’t with the other boys in class who are stupid enough to think they deserve even a second of your time and it makes him feel a little bit more confident as he speaks more clearly “a-and I’ll be number one, and you’ll be number two. but not behind me, with me, yknow ?” he feels stupid for having to explain himself but you don’t mind, as long as you can stay with katsuki you don’t mind which number you are. you move across the table so you can stand next to him. you nod and he let's out a little huff and a smile starts pulling at his mouth.

"a-and" he gulps " 'n then—i'll marry you."

it's quiet for just moment.

and then you register what he said and feel your entire body heat up.

"w-wha ?! " you sputter "marry me ?!" your wide eyes startle him as he glances at you but refuses to look over again. he's red to the tips of his ears, pulling at the bottom of his now longer tucked in shirt. despite the growing lump in his throat, he nods.

"mhm," he kicks at an eraser laying on the floor, the only noise heard coming from it hitting a wall a little further. you don't see where, you're still looking at him. " my ma says i can't do it now, since it's...illegal, or something." he scoffs dissaprovingly "b-but..when 'm older," he sucks in a breath, then suddenly turns to you causing you to sit up straighter in suprise, you feel your hands gripping the desk tighter and tighter as your face feels more and more on fire. "when i'm older—i'll do it. that way, none of those other losers will look at you."

he looks way more flustered than you but he's sitting up straight still, eyes determined and unwavering and it knocks the wind out of you, because for as long as you can remember katsuki's been the coolest.

there's absolutely no doubt in your mind he's embarrassed. if his face wasn't a dead give away, his posture and demeanor give it away just as much. you've known him for a long time now, since you were 6 years old and he had walked up to you. little newbie you, who had transferred in the middle of the school year and with nobody to play with. he was there, head held high with his friends in tow behind him, demanding to know what your quirk was and the rest was history.

katsuki persists even when he knows the odds are low, he perseveres and keeps kicking and punching and blowing up everything in his path where anyone else would've given up while they had the chance. like when he fought against those 4th graders while you were all still only in 2nd grade. his face was all messed up and he had a nosebleed, but he ended up winning. because he swore he would keep winning.

'cus that's what heroes do.'

katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'd win. even here, when he isn't fighting, instead confessing to you. he's red-faced, embarrassed out of his mind and nervous, but his shoulders are squared and there's no doubt in his eyes after he had just told you he would marry you. when he thought about being older, he thought about you being there with him.

and even after what you'd heard all you can think is that your katsuki is so cool.

so with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty little cramped classroom, you give him your response.

"mhm ! "

katsuki thinks about his last year of middle school.

today's the last day of your middle school life before you go off to high school and katsuki couldn't be happier to leave this shitty school. he's 15 now. older, but besides his features, remained the same (to you, at least) .

it's your last day and you finish it off with cleaning duty, ironically, and he remembers that day back in elementary. then proceeds to shake it off, hoping to shake off the embarrassing memories. but it doesn't seem to work because it feels like the universe is seriously fucking with him.

you're the one tasked with cleaning duty again and with your cleaning buddy, yet again, being nowhere to be found. katsuki yet again staying behind to help you out. and again, katsuki has absolutely no idea where your buddy went and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.

it shouldn't be anything new, he stays and helps, albeit begrudingly, every time you have cleaning duty. but it feels different somehow. katsuki chalks it up to it being the end of the year.

the only difference from last time is you actually finish in record time. usually, that would've been great news, less time at school and even more free time katsuki can spend with you.

but you're quiet today.

you usually chat his ear off, and just because it's you, he chat's right back. wether you're messing around teasing each other or just talking about your day at school or who's house you're staying over at for the afternoon and which movie you're watching, you're always talking about something. it's comforting where he'd usually think it to be annoying with anyone else. but they aren't you.

and he doesn't like it.

when you finish you reach for your bag sitting neatly on top of your desk but katsuki stops you, grabbing your wrist. the feel of your soft skin has him involentarily flushing lightly, he ignores it in favor of squeezing your wrist when you don't immediately look back at him.

"what's up with you ?" he questioned gruffly. it comes out harsh, but that's not what you hear. you've known katsuki for a long time, after all. he's worried, you can tell. his words are rough around the edges but his eyes are soft, filled with care and the soft stroke of his thumb against you skin sends slight shivers down your spine when you turn to look at him shyly.

you open your mouth to deny him, but he can practically read your mind "don't give me that 'nothinngg' bullshit" your nose scrunches at the way his voice raises in pitch as he crudely mimicks you and a little smirk pulls at his face for only a moment before it falls again " don't go lyin' to me. know i hate that shit" he rasped.

you sigh, he's known you just as long as you'd known him after all.

you lean against your desk and he copies you, your shoulders brushing as he scoots himself a little closer to you. you jump up a little to sit on your desk, you're the same height as him like this. he scoots a little closer and turns to look at you, placing his hands on your desk to lean on it, fingers inches away from yours.

"i just—" you faltered "this our last day of school. when the day is over we'll be high schoolers." you stated. katsuki scoffs jokingly and leans a bit closer to you "what ? you tellin' me youre gonna miss this dump ? last i heard, you were the first one who wanted to leave so you wouldn't have to deal with mr. nakamura anymore." he jests, trying to lighten the mood as best he could, the worry in his eyes still shining bright. a smile pulls at the corner of his lips when you huff out a little giggle.

"yeah well, i won't be missing mr. nakamura. or his stupid tests" you pretend to shiver as you cringe "at all." katsuki let's out a cute chuckle. he's like a magnet, you feel yourself scooting closer to where he's leaning next to you, like you're being pulled closer to him, you don't mind. you never mind being close to katsuki.

"but..?" he coaxed, knowing that wasn't all you wanted to say.

"but.." you continue "but i'll miss this, yknow ? like—the school itself wasn't..the best" katsuki scoffs in response but doesn't interrupt "the teachers weren't either. but—i dunno—this. being here." you confess, you stare down at your shoes as you kicks your legs aimlessly into the air " we've spent such a long time here, and now we're leaving. we went from being the youngest—to the oldest, to going back to being the youngest again, and that in itself isn't the problem.."

"then what is ?" he raises a brow.

"we're gonna be in a completely different school, with completely different people—"

"but we'll be together." he interrupts "you said you wanted to go to ua too" you said you were gonna stay with me is what he wants to say, but it's childish and that wouldn't be fair to you.

"of course, i still do !" you reassure "but—there'll be tons of new, strong, cool people at ua.."

"maybe even stronger and cooler than me.." you trail off. you don't need to say more for katsuki to understand what you mean and it pissed him off.

"shut up." he growls.

"katsuki—"

"no. shut the fuck up." he's right in front of you before you can blink. you reflexively part your legs and he takes the opportunity to stand even closer to you, right in your space. you feel your cheeks warm at the proximity, you’re close enough to see it's apparently affecting him too, his cheeks turning a cute pink but as stubborn as your katsuki is he doesn't budge. as usual.

you don't exactly know what you and katsuki are. you know you like him, you know you have for a long time. and you'd like to believe he likes you too. he doesn't act the way he does with you the way he does with his other friends (or his lackeys as he calls them, you're the only one he openly calls his friend) but he doesn't really have anyone close to him besides you, so you don't know if he'd act this way with someone else.

the thought leaves a nasty taste in your mouth, so you decide to focus on something else. something else being katsuki, of course, he's all up in your space. his gaze not allowing you to look or even think about anything else but him.

"who i meet at ua doesn't fuckin' matter, they'll all be weaksauce compared to me anyway" he states smugly, causing you to huff out a laugh again " i don't care if theyre cool, or strong" his nose scrunches up in disgust as he quips venomously "i don't care about any of that—and i don't hang out with you because of that either—i fuckin' care about you because you're you."

your heart stutters.

" what, you think i hang out witcha because of superficial shit like that ? you mockin' me or something ?"

"no, no course not !" you insist, shaking your head.

" exactly, so don't..." he huffs, looking away from you towards the ground, there's a random eraser lying on the ground and he kicks it "don't go saying dumb shit like that."

"i don't waste my time with just anyone, 's why i'm wastin' it with your ass" he jokes, chuckling when you squeeze his nose in response. supressing a smile you whine at him when he leans forward to bite yours.

"katsuki, you're gross !" you giggle as you push at his face, he smiles lightly at the sound of your laughter, one of his favorite sounds. "ya started it." he disputes weakly, his smile turning into a smirk when you groan and then it falls again as he looks at you seriously.

" but seriously" he starts "i mean it, y'know. don't just say shit to say it"

"i know" you smile. he grunts in acknowledgement then continues.

"i don't care about how cool those future ua asshats are gonna be. you're different, you're not like that—i mean—that's not what i look at—what i see with you" he fumbles around for his words and groans, slamming his forehead against your shoulder. you're used to katsuki being physical, but that was usually when he was being annoying, pinching and prodding and biting at you. he's rarely ever this affectionate. it's different, but nice..really nice, so you savor it while you can. your fingers twitch a little closer to his and you decide to take a leap of faith, placing your hands ontop of his. he flinches and you're about to pull back when he grips your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. you feel him huff into your uniform. his hair tickles as he shuffles his head deeper inside your shoulder.

"you're not like those other losers, y'not like anyone" he explains "you're—when you're around it's like you're glowing. you're bright and when you talk, everyone sorta—gets pulled towards you like you're some typa magnet" his hands get warmer against yours as he speaks. you're surprised that he sees you this way, when that's practically the same way you see him.

" you pull people in so easily, and it pisses me off that you don't realise it. you are strong, and cool and everything else but that's not all you are. s'not all i care about."

"you're annoying. and whiney. extremely annoying, actually" he chuckles, and you pull at his ear "but—" he continues "but you're..fun to be around or whatever, wouldn't be around you otherwise. you're too fuckin' nice and your taste in music isn't bad" katsuki grumbles.

he wants to say more, so much more. he wants to say he thinks the way you immerse yourself when you're watching a movie together is adorable. the way you hold yourself back from commenting during the movie so as not to be annoying, even thought he could listen to you naming street signs and never get bored. the way your eyes light up when you get your grade back for a test you had studied your ass off for, when you come to him showing off your hard work it makes him want to hold you and never let go. he wants to say the way you're not scared to banter and bicker with him, the way your nose scrunches up when you try to hold in your laughter when he passes you a crudely drawn picture of your homeroom teacher, the way you smile at him whenever you see him, whenever he shares his umbrella or your lunches even though you have your own and he has his, makes him want to kiss you silly.

he wants to say all this and more, but he knows the words won't come out right, they never do. but somehow you understand and it's another thing he admires—that he loves about you.

"i...didn't know you felt that way" is all you can quietly muster up. you're cute, he feels you squeezing his hands a little tighter " yeah you didn't, cus i didn't tell you" he ribbed. you huff out a 'dont be annoying" gruffly and he chuckles. the asshole.

your asshole, though, your heart decides.

you're both quiet, everything is quiet and you're happy, reassured. you'd be happy if this is where the conversation ended but katsuki never fails to surprise you today it seemed.

" 'sides" he squeezes your hands tighter "i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ? how can i do that if i'm not around you, hah ?"

you're heart skips approximately three beats at the memory of his promise and you lean back to look at his fully red cheeks and his fleeing eyes.

"you still remember that ?" you ask incredulously. he rolls his eyes but you can tell it's simply to save face as he responds " of course i do. wasn't that long ago."

"but—we were like—ten when that happened. "

"so ?" he responds simply "doesn't change nothin'. i told you, i don't say shit to just say it."

you're flustered and so utterly confused, but there's a happy feeling bubbling in your stomach at his words " but we're not even dating !"

"we're not ?" of course not , he knows he hadn't properly asked you to be his girlfriend. but he figured if he talked about the memory that seemed to refuse being pushed aside, he could casually sneak by what he was too embarrassed to ask. but of course, you never make it easy for him.

"no, we aren't" you pout, crossing your arms at him. he grumbles, reaching to pull your arms away from your chest but you're stubborn, he was right about you being extremely annoying. "cut that out," he hissed.

"mm-mm ! " you shake your head "you can't just decide we're together. i didn't even know you liked me like that.." you trail off shyly. katsuki looks utterly baffled "hah?! whaddya mean you didn't know ? you don't see me actin' like this with anyone else do you ?"

"that's cus you're mean to everyone else !" you choked out, puffing your cheeks out at him.

"well yeah ! but—that's the thing, i'm not mean to you !" he defends, faltering when you raise a brow at him "fuck off, m'not that mean ! i'm just messing with you !" he rebutted. you simply roll your eyes at him and after a moment he sighs.

"fine" he concedes "i should've told you i liked you, i don't just decide that i want you to be my girlfriend when it's convenient for me or something" he keeps quiet about how you could of also told him you liked him as well for now, for fear of you getting moody at him again.

you still look away from him and he groans "hey c'mon, look at me." he utters sincerely. after a minute, you offer him a glance and he takes his opportunity, turning your face towards him, holding back a grin when he feels how warm your cheeks are.

"do you...wanna be my girlfriend ?" he stammers, looking at you with his red cheeks and bashful red eyes, and yet his gaze doesn't falter.

so cool.

it's your last day of middle school, your last day before you go off to a different school with different people. but with your katsuki by your side, and that's all that matters to you.

and with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty classroom, you give him your response by pressing your lips to his softly.

katsuki thinks about the night before today, when you'd knocked at his door in the dead of night.

usually, on any other day, he'd have scolded you for being up so late but would've ended up letting you in anyway. but lately, things hadn't been as they had been before..everything happened. and he could tell you were upset, so he simply let you in without a word.

you take the liberty of laying down in his bed like you used to back at his house and back at the dorms. he doesn't mind. it feels familiar, comforting.

he lies down next to you and you immediately latch onto him, seeking his warmth. with your head in his chest, you hold onto him tightly, like he'll dissapear if you don't. he clings to you just as tightly.

"what's up with you ?" he mumbles sleepily, softer than when he would've if he were more awake, but still focusing all of his attention onto you.

he feels you shake against his chest "jus' wanted to be wif you" he hears you mumbles. he presses his lips to the top of your head, pressing a sweet little kiss onto it as you breathe "you know that's bullshit." he reprimands, he feels you squeeze him tighter. he squeezes your waist twice, his warm hands running up and down your sides "c'mon, talk to me" he prodded

you look up at him and he looks down at you. your eyes are glossy, he can tell even in the dark and he's sure you were crying a little. his theory is confirmed when he hears you let out a little sniffle, his heart breaks at the sound. his heart breaks even more when you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping at the front of his shirt.

"baby," he pleads softly, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, mouth and cheeks when you whine. "tell me what's bothering you, yeah ?"

"m'just—you're gonna be fighting tomorrow, and we all are and i know you're strong but you'll be in the front lines against him" you blubbered, you hiccup as tears roll down your cheeks " and i know you're strong. but katsu, i can't—" you gasp. he shushes you softly, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips. he knows what you're gonna say, he knows you're worried. he's known you for so long after all.

he hated himself the day he woke up after the first war. when he woke up to you crying at his side, with you yourself still being injured. he hates how much he worried you that day and he knows that the fleeting glances you give him whenever you have a briefing with the pro's, the way you stare off at nothing whenever you catch a glimpse of his scars, are all out of worry for him. he did the same after he had found out you had also been heavily injured during the brawl, so he can't say he wouldn't do the same way.

"baby, babe—look at me" he intones softly, grabbing onto your tear stained cheeks to get you to look at him, he's close so he's sure you can see him despite the darkness. he can't help pressing another kiss to your lips " nothing's gonna happen, okay ?" he reassures, rubbing your cheek softly.

"i can't see you like that again, katsuki. i just can't" you whimper, leaning into his hand.

"you won't, promise you won't." he vows. he knows you're even more worried because you'll both be in different areas and he hates he won't be able to keep his eye on you. but you're strong and cool and everything else, so he trusts you'll be okay "i need you to trust me"

"i do" you sniffle, taking a deep breath "i do trust you, but i just—don't wanna see you get hurt, kacchan"

he sighs softly, staring at you lovingly as he pulls you towards his chest. you nuzzle against him and he presses his mouth to the side of your head. "i can't promise i won't be gettin' hurt, s'gonna happen on the job" he says carefully, rubbing your back "but i promise i'll always come back to you. no matter how fucked up i get, i'll win. for you." he declares, feeling you shove your head deeper against his shoulder.

you remember how despite getting extremely injured by shigaraki, he recovered in record time. it seemed nothing could stop your boyfriend from proving to the world he was the best. because katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. because to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'll win.

and despite the worry and the fear gnawing at you, you can't help but think your katsuki is so fucking cool.

so you nod against his shoulder and he feels the collar of his shirt grow wet, but he doesn't mind as your grip on him loosens lightly until you can feel yourself falling asleep.

before you fall though, you hear katsuki speak.

"besides, i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ?"

he feels you smile into his neck, and you give him your response by happily nodding into his shoulder with a hum.

in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.

he thinks of the promises he's made. he thinks of the promise he made to his old hag to not cause you, such a sweet girl, too much trouble. he remembers the promise he made to his old man to stay safe while he went out on patrol and when he'd fight against shigaraki for the second time. he remembers the promise he made to himself to get his limited edition all might card signed one day. and he remembers the promise he'd made when he said he'd always, always come back to you.

and he remembers the promise he'd made to marry you. the promise that you both would be together and none of the other losers would look at you.

so when he awakens, katsuki doesn't bother to ask why or how.

he simply fights and keeps fighting, so he can win, no matter how fucked up he gets.

and always, always come back to you.

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 2 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 3.8k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), some cussing, adult themes (not smut lol) (yet) (jk) (unless...), the mission finally starts, so much plot from here on out y'all so buckle up

a/n. i didn't get to include the most important bits that were supposed to be presented in this chapter because i got carried away with the buildup lol. exciting times ahead y'all. i have so much in store for you with this series. don't be a stranger and let's talk!

links. masterlist, ao3

You can only stare back at the woman peering at you, her face painted with a thick layer of makeup, her hair styled to staged ‘effortless’ perfection, and her body wrapped in an outfit that’s equal parts provocative and refined.

Her image is so flawlessly curated—so much so that you barely notice the apprehension that’s hidden amidst her features, if it weren’t for the fact that that woman is you.

You can barely recognize yourself—and perhaps that’s the point of all this.

Asahi and Moriyama didn’t have to explicitly state it yesterday—they need you to put in every ounce of effort to make sure that you succeed, and that includes doing everything you can to supplement your quirk all the while keeping your real identity lowkey.

Even if it means looking like this.

You’re about to give in to your second thoughts and change out of the black, low-cut tank and beige cardigan you have on when an array of knocks echo from what you think is your front door, and you freeze.

With a cautious glance at your bedroom’s wall clock, you think you’re supposed to feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see that it’s 9:00 PM on the dot, the exact time Bakugou said he’d pick you up, which means no villain or mal intentioned person is at your front porch, but that doesn’t come.

Instead, the sense of dread that’s been stirring in your gut ever since you got swept by Asahi’s men yesterday only magnifies, leaving you a bit cold and…are you shaking?

You don’t get to dwell on that, though, because another round of rapping resonates from your foyer again, which somehow pulls you out of your nervous stupor. You hurriedly run to the door, not even bothering to check through the peephole, opening it with a turn of the knob to see Bakugou.

Wearing a white face mask and decked in a fitting black hoodie, with his ash-blonde hair peeking through the sides of a dark baseball cap.

His fist is frozen mid-air as he stares at you, eyes slightly widened in shock, as if he didn’t believe you’re capable of this thing called punctuality. He promptly brings it down, though, schooling his expression into a neutral one, but not before giving you a quick once-over.

“Hey,” he offers, voice gruff and way lower than you remembered it back in high school.

“Hello,” you counter, looking back at your messy apartment out of habit. “I’m almost done. I just need to grab my purse.”

And, because you genuinely need to know for the sake of what you’re about to do, you ask: “Do I look okay?”

He must’ve not been anticipating that question, because his eyebrows furrow ever so minutely like you just caught him off guard. “Yeah,” he eventually replies after studying the entire length of your body once again.

And, you may have just imagined it, but you swear to god his eyes linger on your chest for a beat longer than necessary before he meets your gaze.

“You clean up…” he pauses, like he’s grasping for the right adjective, before settling with: “…decent.”

At that, you feel yourself deflate a bit. Maybe you wanted a more affirming answer, definitely not because you want that from him, but because you need to look good. However, if there’s anything the rumor mill told you back when you were still teenage students, it’s that Bakugou Katsuki was a man of few words when he was serious, let alone appreciative, so you take his comment in stride.

Besides, in comparison to how you looked yesterday, anything is an improvement, really.

“Thanks,” you respond, and you debate for a second whether or not to say the next thing but ultimately decide on it. “…And you look mildly disguised.”

That seems to ruffle Bakugou’s feathers. “Mildly?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling unsure about your honesty. “I get the hoodie and the cap and the face mask, but there’s no hiding your hulking frame, man.”

And really, there isn’t. How are you supposed to conceal a torso as large as that?

You gesture to his chest and shoulder area for further emphasis. “I don’t think you can pass up as a regular citizen but like as a non-descript athlete, maybe?”

To your dismay, Bakugou merely grunts before shaking his head. “This’ll work.”

Apparently already over your suggestion, he glances past your shoulder as he shifts his weight on his other foot. “Can you grab your purse now? We’ve to get going.”

Now, you’ve got half a mind to argue and try to convince him that maybe going for a better disguise is better in the long run but you’re silenced by his domineering gaze. So instead, you nod before rushing back to your bedroom and grabbing the bag you already prepared beforehand, as well as your phone that’s charging on top of your bedside table.

Although it won’t be of much use later, or in the coming few weeks, if everything goes according to plan.

“Ready?” he asks when you return to the doorway with your things in tow.

“Yup,” you retort as you lock the door behind you, and just like that, you’re well on your way to a potential death sentence.

You’re in the elevator going down to the ground floor by the time he speaks up again. “We’re commuting,” he starts, not looking at you but instead scrutinizing the barely hanging on floor buttons. “Can’t risk raising suspicion by driving there.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” you ask just as the elevator dings, signifying your arrival.

The doors burst open, and he steps out. “You’ll see.”

The commute to wherever the hell it is you two are going is quiet.

Bakugou didn’t divulge any further details as you stepped out of your building, wordlessly ordering you with a stern look to just follow. Frankly, you don’t like how you’re being kept in the dark, but you don’t contend. You’re acutely aware that you have a limited number of cards to play with Bakugou, and you have to play them right, if you want to even survive this mission without your partnership falling apart and jeopardizing the entire thing. Wasting a card on stupid information would be downright foolish on your end.

Even the walk to the bus stop is silent, and so is the entire ride. Despite it being quite late into the evening, the vehicle is still somewhat crowded, which you chalk up to it being a Friday night. You find yourself relaxing in your seat as the realization dawns on you—perhaps there was no point in getting too riled up about getting noticed.

And besides, you’re taking extra precautions, too. You’re not sitting next to each other, because he’s trying to stave off attention while you’re straining to catch it. Maybe not of these strangers, but of the people you’re going to meet later on.

Roughly 10 minutes and a short subway ride later, you climb up the underground stairs to a stop you vaguely remember hearing from your coworkers about. You recall how she described an old party district right in the middle of Musutafu, and sure enough, the text on the street signs match the name she recounted during one of your lunch breaks.

“Over here,” Bakugou calls out from a few feet ahead of you. You quickly quit your observing and follow suit, mindful of keeping an appropriate, not at all questionable distance between the two of you.

After what felt like walking five blocks from the subway, you see Bakugou halt and make a left into a poorly lit alleyway. You hesitate for a second, having been on autopilot and going straight for the last how many minutes. You’re able to swiftly gather yourself, though, steering in the same direction.

The moment that you do, it instantly registers to you that you’re not just in the party district anymore. If the dingy signages and the palpable seediness of the alley are any indication, you’re most likely in the red-light district now.

Suddenly, everything feels a bit too real, and you barely catch yourself stumbling back on your feet. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou, who instinctively moves to reach out for you from where he’s standing. He pauses, though, when you’re able to regain your bearings with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“Sorry,” you offer meekly.

He eyes you with the very same inexplicable expression from before. “You good?”

You’re not about to tell him you’re scared shitless, so you give him a half-hearted nod. Turning to study the exterior of the small building, you take in the lightly peeling paint and the booming music emanating from it. “This the place?”

“Yes,” he answers without missing a beat. “Are you sure you’re good?”

You whip to look back at Bakugou, who, if you didn’t know any better, is now looking apprehensive.

You decide then and there that you have to get your shit together.

Bravery is contagious, but so is fear.

For a second, you contemplate using your quirk on yourself to calm your nerves down, but eventually decide against it. There are much bigger fish to fry tonight, and what’s the point of learning all those damned breathing and grounding techniques if you’re not going to use them?

“I’m ready,” you finally tell him after a moment of both of you standing there. “Let’s go in before we start looking unusual out here.”

If Bakugou notices the unease you’re sure you’re radiating, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he gives you a curt nod, before turning to open the door.

And when he does, you’re almost instantaneously flooded by the music that was just escaping through the cracks and crevices of the run-down building. You fight the instinct to cover your ears as you step into the large room behind Bakugou, eyes quickly darting all over the place to drink in the scene before you.

Right in the back of the space is a stage that extends in the center as a runway to the middle of the room. The orange and pink mood lights illuminating the area are relatively dim minus the bulbs lining the set and walkway. And, beneath the elevated platform are what have to be pleather seats littered all over the floor—all of which are occupied by decidedly rambunctious men.

You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose as their boisterous laughter fills your ears, opting to face Bakugou instead.

“Hey,” you call out to him, who stops in his tracks to look at you. You sneak a glance at the people at the bar nearest the two of you, just to make sure they’re not listening in, before you continue. “Are you sure this is the place?”

You don’t have to peek beneath his mask to know he’s now scowling at you.

“What am I, a dumbass? I told you, this is it.” He then shifts away from you, far enough that you barely hear his next words. “…It has to be.”

Well.

That’s not exactly comforting.

Your discomfort only heightens when the already faint lights dim further, and the music switches from a pop song to which you know a bit of the lyrics to a rap that, if you were to base it on the first phrase, is all about having explicit, unprotected sex. The crowd of men cheers in anticipation, and as if on cue, a woman dressed in nothing but a two-piece lingerie emerges from the back of the stage, confirming your speculation of what the place is.

A strip club.

You watch as the woman confidently struts towards the center, and apparently, you’re no better than any of the men here because your gaze slowly roves over her slim and toned body, eyes catching at her cleavage that’s leaving nothing to the imagination. You can’t help it—you look down at your own chest, sinking in disappointment at the contrast before promptly looking up in embarrassment, only to find Bakugou studying you closely.

“It’s a strip club,” you blurt out, flustered at getting caught in the act. His eyes only narrow in a way that tells you what you’re already telling yourself: Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, much to your relief, only moving to the far corner of the room where there are miraculously two seats unoccupied. You follow him with no further questions asked, plopping in the chair to his right, thankful you’re wearing black trousers so that your skin doesn’t have to go into contact with the sticky furniture.

You take the opportunity to clock the rest of the room, cataloguing the bar at the other end of the area near the entrance where a barista is swiftly taking and making orders all at the same time, while the men seated on the stools struggle to decide whether to look at the man or at the stripper now performing an elaborate dance around the pole. Amidst the decorated wall adjacent to the bar is a door with a restroom sign on it, and you squint just enough to see it’s only one stall for everyone. You make a mental note to hold in your pee, at least until you get out of here.

And, because you’re feeling nice, you shift to regard Bakugou with a good-natured smile on your face. “I hope you peed right before leaving your house.”

“What?” he says loud enough for you to hear him over the noise they’re calling music. “I can’t hear you.”

“Shit, right.” You lean in ever so minutely, and Bakugou mirrors you. You try to ignore the new-found proximity. “I said,” you repeat, with a little more volume this time, “I hope you peed right before fetching me. I bet the toilet’s filthy as shit.”

To your delight, not that you’d admit that to him in this lifetime, Bakugou smirks at your little quip after confirming the lone comfort room with his own eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, princess,” he starts, and you stiffen at the nickname, “I’m not the one who has to sit on one.”

You’re about to retort with something along the lines of what if he has to poop out of the blue, or at least try to, because the pet name has you gagged against your better judgment, when a ridiculously tall man clad in all black appears out of nowhere, startling you.

“The f—”

“Dynamight,” the behemoth of a guy cuts you off, eyes trained on the pro-hero beside you and completely ignoring your presence. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“Took you long enough to approach me,” Bakugou sneers, oozing with the confidence you can’t find within yourself right now. “I hate sleazy places like this.”

To that, the man only bows his head slightly, face solemn but devoid of remorse. You watch him as his eyes finally drift to you, albeit for only a split second, before looking back at Bakugou. “Follow me, sir.”

The ash blonde does so, perhaps a tiny bit begrudgingly, and you speedily get up along with him. The two men turn to move, and you’re about to take a step closer towards their direction when a long arm shoots up in front of you, keeping you in place.

Any protests die in your throat when you look up and see the guy’s menacing glare.

“If you don’t mind,” he grits through his teeth, “Only Dynamight is needed.”

“She’s with me,” comes Bakugou’s commanding tone. You chance a glance at the pro-hero, whose countenance is so serious you’d be afraid if you were the one he’s talking to.

“But, sir—”

“It’s the two of us or we’re leaving,” Bakugou demands.

The two engage in a stare down which you witness for what feels like a few minutes before the man finally looks away, frustration etched across his intimidating features. He glares at you once more, as if you’re the one who’s insisting on being Bakugou’s plus one, and you’re about to be convinced that he’s mentally chanting a spell to make you disappear when he gestures for you to follow him with a flick of a head.

You gradually release the breath you didn’t know you were holding as you shadow them as they enter one of the doors on the wall perpendicular to where you were just stationed. It leads to a staircase that swerves in the middle, and you lock eyes with Bakugou as he makes the turn ahead of you. Neither of you says a word, opting to keep on trailing the man, even as you land on the second floor, which looks more and more like a prostitution den.

Once again, your conjecture is confirmed as you walk down the hallway and past several sets of doors on both sides, from which emanate a cacophony of sensual moans and groans. You wonder what Bakugou’s thinking right now, although you can’t get a read on him as you can only observe his backside.

Finally, after what seems like a tortuous eternity, the man stops right in front of the door at the end of the hallway, and you pause right behind him.

He looks back at Bakugou and you with what you’re pretty sure is caution, before knocking on the door twice, and then another two times but in rapid succession.

“Come in,” is what the muffled voice on the other side says.

And so you do.

You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting, because you’ve never actually been in a service room before, but you at least anticipated a bed on which certain…activities can be done.

But what you’re met with instead seems to be a refurbished lounge room with floor-to-ceiling brick walls, black and red quilted couches, and a bar at the far side all lit up with moody orange lighting.

And smack dab in the middle of it—sprawled so languidly all over the furniture—are three individuals.

Three individuals who immediately look at Bakugou.

It’s them, alright. You don’t need your extensive training in reading people to know that these are the ones you came all the way here for.

You quickly take note of their appearances. The seemingly old man who has to be in his late 50s is seated—quite relaxed—in one of the scarlet solo chairs. He’s slim, bordering on frail, but the glint in his eye as he peers at Bakugou tells you that it’d be unwise to rule him out as one of your main threats.

Juxtaposing his age which is further revealed by his shoulder-length salt and pepper hair is the young woman plastered on the couch adjacent to his.

Or maybe ‘woman’ is a bit too generous…

It’s not obvious at first glance, but you immediately notice how some of her body parts appear to be outright robotic in the literal sense. Perhaps it’s her long, pin-straight, jet-black hair that softens her entire look, but there’s no mistaking what seems to be an artificial left eye, a metallic right arm, and angled, silver lips. She’s wearing long pants so there’s no telling which other parts of her are made up of what you think is steel, but the ones visible to you already tell you enough.

And then there’s the third and last man, who, in comparison to the other two, is remarkably…plain.

There isn’t an air of age-induced wisdom around him, nor is there anything peculiar about his body. He looks like just about any other 40-year-old-ish Japanese man you know, with short black hair, an unassuming face, and semi-formal clothes that are quite loose on his not-buff but not exactly thin body either.

But to your surprise, it’s him that the hilariously huge guy from earlier directly reports to.

“Pro-hero Dynamight, sir, as you requested. And…” the ‘escort’ trails off, and for a split second, you feel kind of sorry you’re here and making things complicated for him. “…he brought company.”

“Finally,” the plain-looking man pipes up from his seat, and even his voice is generic. “And here we thought you were never going to come meet us.”

Placing what suspiciously looks like a glass of whiskey on the table in front of him, the man shifts to fully regard Bakugou. “I see that you’ve deciphered the messages we’ve been sending you?”

“No shit,” comes Bakugou’s blunt response, and for a beat, you seriously consider using your quirk on him to make him calm the fuck down.

You decide against it.

To your chagrin, he drones on. “Y’all gotta do better. That was barely even a code.”

At that, the old male barks out a laugh while the plain-looking man only chuckles. “Of course, we expect nothing less from the #2 pro-hero. But…” the latter trails off, eyes finally landing on you. You quickly put on the most endearing smile you can muster, suddenly regretting not touching up your makeup upon sitting earlier. Thankfully, though, he smiles back, before redirecting his focus back on Bakugou.

“I see you brought precious cargo. Is there any reason why she’s here with us?”

“We want in your organization,” Bakugou replies without hesitation. “The both of us.”

And when none of them say anything in response, Bakugou presses.

“You need me, right? I heard you’re planning an attack. I want to join.”

“Yes,” the old man finally speaks up, not even denying it yet his voice is riddled with misplaced humor. “We do, in fact, need you. But what use do we have of this girl?”

“She’s got a useful quirk,” Bakugou supplies, before turning to look at you and then back at them. “Luck. She boosts the success rate of anyone she works with.”

“Luck?” the old geezer says back so incredulously, you feel your eye twitch in annoyance. If he only knew what you were fully capable of. He can’t, though, if you want to get out of this entire situation alive. “I don’t think we’ll need that as long as we have you, boy.”

“Well, tough luck,” spews Bakugou, a little bit too sarcastically for your comfort. “Because, as I’ve told your little lackey here,” he gestures to the definitely not little guy from earlier, “It’s both of us or I’m out.”

“The both of you, huh?” muses the plain-looking man who’s seeming to be more and more like the leader of the group by the second.

Once again, silence envelopes the room when none of them utter a single word, with you and Bakugou watching in anxious (you) and impatient (him) anticipation. You observe their facial expressions as they have a wordless exchange, and judging by how the ancient and the robotic girl are looking at the ordinary man, you guess your hunch about him is right.

Eventually, they appear to reach an agreement, and the leader adjusts just enough to look at the both of you directly.

You brace yourself with bated breath.

He flashes you a modest smile.

“It’s a deal, then.”

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

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[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - part III

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

Warnings: toxic!paige, SMUT, language, cheating lowkey...

Wordcount: 6.6k

A/N: SURPRISE!! enjoy this please, someone was asking for more fluff and i promise the next one will have more!! i appreciate all the love and support, please again tell me which parts you enjoyed the most and what you want more of!! i appreciate all of it ty guys (AND HAPPY UCONN HOOPS DAY)

-

“Riri…”

My fingers move over the keyboard, typing faster than my brain could keep up with. After hours of studying my brain worked on autopilot.

“Babe..?”

“Gimme a bit,” my murmur is barely audible as Jay sighs next to me, rolling her eyes and falling back down on the bed we’re sitting on. I’m curled up in the corner, my laptop on my knees, eyes bloodshot from the hours of work I’d been doing. The sound of a show I didn’t like blared in the background from Jay’s laptop, breaking my concentration. I wanted to shut her laptop and tell her to leave, but telling the person whose room you were in to get out seemed a little rude. Instead I shut my eyes for a moment and sigh.

“Could you grab headphones or something?” I suggest, as nicely as I could but some annoyance makes its way through.

Jay looks at me, her blonde hair in a messy bun on top of her head as she sighs dramatically. She had been wanting my attention all day but I was seriously behind on some school work. Studying and writing essays was pretty much all I’d done for the past week. That and Jay. It was for the best, I didn’t need any time to overthink or dwell on… well… “the Paige situation” is what my best friends called it. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Valerie, you've been working all day again…” Jay says in a slightly whiny voice, the tone of it hits my ear uneasily. She wraps her arms around my bare thigh and hugs it tight. The pressure of her touch against my skin irks me - everything she did irked me. I blamed the overstimulation of everything going on . I peel her hands off me as gently as I could. Couldn’t she see I was busy?

“Just a little more I promise,” I mumble absentmindedly. I had been sitting on this corner of the bed since this morning, obvious from the state of me. My brown hair was up in a clip, half of it falling out messily, my face was bare of any makeup, and the light pink oversized t-shirt I was wearing had a picture of Tweety on it. I hadn’t even bothered to put on any pants all day.

“Babe you said that like an hour ago,” Jay points out, letting go of my thigh and sitting up next to me, brushing my hair off my face. I push her hand away, huffing a little bit, trying to let her know it was time to leave me alone.

“I need to work,” I remind her, a little annoyed by the neediness.

“But the party,” she sighs and closes my laptop, forcing me to look at her. I look into her brown eyes, as she raises her brows at me expectantly. I pout at her, looking at the freckles on her face before I sigh.

“I promised, didn't I…” 

“You did,” Jay chuckles and grabs my hand. I let her. We had been seeing each other for a couple weeks now, ever since I finally let go of the foolish hope that someday Paige would actually care about me. God was I naive.

Jay was sweet, she always let me sleep over which I wasn’t used to. She loved to touch me, her hands were constantly on me. Sometimes it was a little frustrating but I think I just wasn’t used to it yet. Like when we walked around campus, she always wanted to hold hands. It made a knot grow in my stomach, but I knew I’d get used to it eventually. It just felt like a little too soon, we weren’t officially dating even though Jay certainly behaved like we were.

“I don’t feel like partying,” I sigh, glancing down at my shirt, knowing I looked like a mess.

Jay rolls her eyes but smiles a little, her lips pressing against mine. Absent-mindedly I kiss her back, not even bothering to close my eyes. It was just a peck anyway, I didn’t feel like it was a kiss worth closing your eyes for.

“C’mon Riri… everyone’s going,” she tries to convince me but she’s not doing a very good job. I almost felt sorry for how she thought she could talk me over.

“I look like shit.”

“No you don’t.”

I let out a chuckle and climb out of the bed over Jay, checking myself in the mirror. I really did. I raise my brows and look at her, still on the bed.

“Well… just put on a little bit of mascara and we can go,” she chuckles, climbing out of bed, wrapping her hands around my waist as she approaches me from behind me. I watch in the mirror as her chin rests on my shoulder. I feel my stomach stir, wanting to push her hands off me again, but I think I had done that one too many times today already.

“You really wanna go? Like… really?” I ask with a frown, meeting her eyes in the mirror. She nods and looks at me pleadingly. It irked me, the way she was looking at me. But she was good to me, so I decided to give in. 

-

I had barely brought any clothes to her dorm so I head to the party with Jay, wearing black yoga pants and the Tweety shirt I had slept in. A little bit of makeup and brushing through my hair had been as much effort as I was willing to put in.. I didn’t want to go to the stupid party anyway. The sooner we were in and out, the better. I didn’t care about impressing anyone on campus, not anymore.

The muffled sounds of music fill the hallway as we walk towards the right dorm. Jay’s hand is snug on the small of my back, guiding me. She looks at me and laughs a little, grabbing me a beer from her bag. I hated beer.

“Turn that frown into a smile,” she suggests with amusement. It only annoyed me further. I open the can and take a few sips.

“Gonna take a lot more beer,” I complain. She kisses my cheek and I see a girl walking past us, and realise we must look like a couple right now. The thought makes my chest tighten in the worst way. 

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” Jay laughs, fixing the collar of her orange sweater that clashes horribly with my pink shirt. I suggested she should change into something else but she refused, which got me in an even worse mood. Her cheesy sayings weren’t helping.

I smile at Jay and knock on the door, the golden bracelet on my wrist dangling as I do. The door opens fast as my eyes widen seeing the amount of people they had managed to pack in this tiny dorm.

“Uh… where did you hear from this party again?” I ask a little hesitant and Jay laughs and guides me in confidently. 

“It’s just some guy Brent who’s been throwing crazy parties in his dorm every february since he came here. I guess the word’s been going around huh?” She yells over the loud thumping of the music. By the time we’re inside I must’ve bumped into at least 12 people already, working hard not to spill my beer. I was already overstimulated and in a bad mood, not to mention stressed from all the due dates of my assignments sneaking up on me. The thumping of the music, the hot, humid air in the dorm and the sweaty bodies of students around me, spilling drinks all over the place was only making my mood worse.

“Jay I don’t know if I-” I start but she’s already walking past me, hurrying to her friends. I sigh and follow her, smiling awkwardly to the group of people greeting Jay. I didn’t really like her friends but I knew I should give them a chance. Jay was good to me.

“Bro, forreal I’ll give you a hundred bucks if you play Drake,” I hear a familiar voice from behind me. I feel the way my stomach drops, the way my hands immediately sweat a little as the tighten around the can of beer.

“It’s the principle, I’m team Kendrick,” some guy argues.

“Please dude I’m serious… she’ll flash you for it,” the familiar voice yells over the music and this statement is enough to make me turn around.

What I see proves what I had already known to be true. Paige is standing a few feet behind me, in black cargos and a white Nike t-shirt, the number 5 dangling on her silver chain. Of course she looked perfect, with her blonde hair down - I always loved it when she wore it like that. My fingertips tingle when I remember what it felt like to brush my hands through that hair. 

“Oh my gooooood PAIGE!!” the brunette girl standing next to her squeals and only then I notice Paige’s hand wrapped around her hip, rubbing circles on it as they both laugh. My mouth parts as I blink at them stupidly, a painful squeeze taking over my chest. 

“Valerie!” Jay yells over the music, and Paige turns to our direction. Her eyes widen in recognition as she sees me, softening for a moment. Her hand drops from the hip of the strange girl next to her, as she stares into me. I felt a wave of electricity run through my body as I felt her eyes on me, like I was coming alive for her again. I was so in shock from seeing her here I felt myself forget why I had even been upset with her in the first place.

Jay grabs my waist and pulls me close, but my gaze remains locked on Paige. Her brows furrow as she sees Jay’s hand squeezing my ass gently and suddenly I feel sick for the way Jay’s touch felt against my skin. No, it wasn’t that. It was Paige’s fault, all of it, the way I felt, the way I was being a bitch to Jay when all she did was good to me. Struggling to do so, I finally turn my gaze to Jay and offer her a warm smile, leaning my head into her shoulder. I quickly down my beer, frowning at the taste but grabbing another one anyway.

Why was she even here? Who was that girl? Why did she stare at me like she hadn’t called me a slut straight to my face just last week? I quickly glance behind me, not at Paige who was joking with a big group of her teammates, but at the girl. She was only a little taller than me, brunette, and she seemed to giggle a lot. I feel my stomach twist as I watch her reach her hand up to Paige’s hair and brush through it, like I had so many times.

I already hated her.

I downed another beer as one of Jay’s friends, Em or something, pointed behind me and Jay and whispered something to her. Jay looks behind us, her eyes widening and mouth falling open when she saw who it was. She leans into my ear, her lips brushing against my skin but I don’t feel anything.

“Babe omg, that’s Paige Bueckers,” she whispers excitedly into my ear, nodding toward the tall blonde and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Jay had no idea how familiar I was with Paige Bueckers.

Jay glances behind us again and giggles in a giddy manner, looking around the circle. “And that’s Jana and Allie and Azzi too, right?” she gasps and looks at me expectantly. I glance behind us too dismissively.

“Oh wow,” I murmur, my tone flat.

Jay rolls her eyes. “Oh c’mon who doesn’t love Paige.”

“I don’t,” I say matter of factly, shrugging at the blonde girl next to me, her hand still rubbing my side. I ignore the way her touch did nothing to me, didn’t leave any spark at all.

“Oh right she won’t even go see a game with me can you believe that,” Jay tells her friends who all chuckle. I fake laugh with them, trying to ignore the way I could feel Paige’s eyes boring into the back of my head. I knew the feeling far too well from all the times she had come to ogle at me at Ted’s, all the times I turned to look at her to find she was already staring.

“I just don’t like basketball,” I explain, shaking my head. It was a huge lie, but a harmless one so I didn’t feel bad about it. Sure, I could tell Jay that me and Paige had history - but why worry her over nothing? Trust me, I was lying for her sake.

“I’m gonna go ask for a pic,” Jay nods to herself and my eyes widen. I immediately shake my head, wrapping my arm around her. 

“No you’re not,” I chuckle, my face turning hot.

“Why not?”

“Because!” 

Jay looks at me, waiting for me to continue. I meet her gaze, my mind blanking.

“Becausee… she probably just wants to be left alone!” I mumble and press a kiss on her cheek, plotting a distraction. “C’mon Jay let’s get you another drink.” I try to sweet talk her but it’s pointless. Jay shakes her head at me with a laugh, her hand returning to her side as she turns to the group of Uconn Huskies behind us, chatting in a circle.

Embarrassed, I cover my face with my hand, cursing at the universe for making me go through this over and over again. I just needed a break from Paige fucking Bueckers.

I try to sneak away but Jay’s hand pulls me to her as she taps Paige on the shoulder. The easy conversation between the Huskies goes quiet, and all their eyes turn to Jay. I feel myself wanting to melt away, maybe to self implode or something to get me out of this situation.

With a lick of her lips, Paige turns to me and Jay, her eyes meeting mine first. Suddenly I hated myself for not running to my dorm to grab a nicer outfit earlier or at least some false lashes and foundation. I flip my hair over my shoulder, praying it made me look a little more presentable. She must’ve thought I looked awful. I had been replaying a fantasy in my head of me looking flawless, perfect the next time she’d see me after our “situation” at Ted’s. I guess the universe truly despised me. I must’ve been an axe murdered in my previous life. I need to make sure I’m desperately good in this one

“Hey sorry I don’t wanna bother you guys but I’m such a big fan, like I come see every game,” Jay says, a slight nervousness apparent in her voice. I chew on my inner cheek, feeling my insides turn as Paige’s eyes move from me to Jay, tilting her head back as she sizes her up. Suddenly I’m aware of how much taller Paige was than Jay. How much broader her shoulders were. I swallow, watching a smug smirk spread on Paige’s face.

“Of course bro let’s do it,” she says in a friendly tone, but I could recognise a hint of arrogance in it. I grab my phone, tapping on the camera app, trying to ignore the way my lower abdomen was stirring with unease but it was no use. The people bumping into me and the loud thumping of music wasn’t helping any of it. I felt sick to my stomach.

Paige throws her arm around Jay’s shoulder, looking from her to me with that arrogant smile on her face, that made me want to slap her and kiss the hell out of her at the same time. I was praying she’d play along, pleading with my eyes for her not to say anything about our history.

“You don’t want a picture?” Paige grins teasingly, her eyes landing on me. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out, all I felt was my throat going dry.

“Ohh she doesn’t like hoops, never goes to a game with me,” Jay complains which makes Paige nod knowingly, her tongue running along her lower lip, clearly trying to hold in a laugh.

“Oh is that so?” Paige asks, our eyes meeting again in a stubborn staring contest. My cheeks turn red and a heat pools between my legs but it doesn’t make me look away.

I scoff and nod. “Yup, hate it actually,” I lie, my tone lighthearted. From the corner of my eye I see KK and Ice watching the interaction, snickering. The thought that they were laughing at me and how stupid I had been thinking I could have Paige all to myself crosses my mind, and it makes me finally break eye contact. I bet they all thought I was an idiot. Poor girl who really truly believed that Paige could someday love her.

“I’m sure I could change your mind,” Paige argues and Jay nods next to her as they clink their plastic cups together. 

“See?” Jay laughs, and I felt a little bad for her. Here she thought she was bonding with someone she admired, no idea what was really going on.

“Let’s just take the pic,” I sigh and watch them through the screen, seeing the way Paige’s rings decorated her fingers, the way her jawline sharpened as she tilted her head and smiled. I don’t even notice Jay next to her in the picture, all I could see was Paige.

“Got it,” I murmur and hand the phone back to Jay. My mind was spinning in a way I didn’t like, flashing with memories of what happened at the back of Ted’s with Paige, the words that were said, everything I had blocked out. I knew my only option was to leave or drink a lot more, quickly. 

“I need another drink,” I murmur, and push past Jay, Paige and the rest of her team, taking hurried steps towards the kitchen around the corner. To my relief, I find it empty and quiet, giving me time to calm down. I brush my hand through my long, thick hair and place my palms on the kitchen counter, watching the cups and the liquor bottles on the table. I don’t understand why I couldn’t escape her. It felt like a hopeless battle, like a war I couldn’t win - if I let myself get consumed by her I got hurt, and if I tried to forget, she was everywhere. I simply could not win.

Paige steps into the desolate kitchen through the doorway, carefully watching me. I notice her and immediately turn my back to her.

“Don’t,” I tell her sternly, knowing how easy it was for her to make me forget all the bad that she had done. Each way that she had hurt me.

Paige raises her hands in surrender, a little amused by my dramatics. “Relax, just needed a drink,” she chuckles and starts looking through the liquor bottles on the table. I take a deep breath and turn back to watch her, her broad back facing me as she reads through the label of a bottle. She had always been horrible with mixing drinks.

“You want one too?” she asks carefully, her voice hoarse from having to yell over the music. 

I take cautious steps towards her, stopping next to her but making sure I leave plenty of space between us. It was like my body was screaming, every inch between us too much, every cell in my brain trying to lose all sense.

Paige’s fingers wrap around a bottle of vodka, carelessly pouring it into a cup.

“Whoaa, okay no, let me,” I stop her abruptly, snatching the bottle from her. Paige lets me, a smirk on her face as I take lead, dividing the generous amount of vodka between two cups. She leans one hand on the counter, the veins on her hand popping, making it hard to think straight.

“So… your girl’s a fan huh?” She asks complacently, leaning down slightly to speak into my ear. I feel her body heat radiating off her, turning my breathing laboured. I shake my head, not wanting to speak in case my voice shook. I reach to the other corner of the counter for the passion fruit liqueur, feeling Paige step back a little. Her hand was still resting on the counter though, as I slid between her body and the counter, my back brushing against her chest. I swallow hard, a knot appearing in my stomach. My ears felt like they were burning.

I stand still between Paige and the counter, as I pour some liqueur in each cup. 

“Why’d you tell her you hate basketball hm?” she asks teasingly, her eyes looking down on me.

“Because I do,” I lie, my breath hitching when I felt her front press closer to my back the tiniest bit.

“Right… what’s her name anyway,” Paige asks with a chuckle.

“Jay.”

“Jay?”

“Yup.”

“What kinda name is Jay?” Paige laughs a little and I roll my eyes.

“It’s a nickname,” I explain, filling our cups with some mixers.

“For?”

I shift a little, placing the bottle of juice down. Paige’s proximity was making me dizzier than I already was.

“Justine,” I say matter of factly and Paige lets out a loud laugh, her hand finally falling off the counter.

“Justine?” She asks astonished and amused, her brows raising and mouth fighting a smirk as I turn to face her, leaning my back against the counter.

“Shut up!” I scold her, feeling the way my mouth wanted to twist into a smile too. She had one of those laughs that just made you laugh. It was one of my favourite sounds in the world.

Paige grins and nods to herself, trying not to laugh. “Justine huh…” she murmurs to herself. She steps in closer to me, her eyes heavy, locking on my lips as she reaches behind me for her drink. I lean back, pressing my back tight against the counter, having to tilt my head back to look at her.

Paige sips the drink and smirks, not moving away.

“She’s short,” she says with a grin.

“No she’s not!” I scoff, watching the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed, the heat between my legs growing. Having Paige this close to me was making me feel more than Jay had done in all of the last two weeks. I hated realising that.

“She short,” Paige repeats smugly, still looking down at me, towering over my frame. I’m all the way pinned against the counter, not able to back up any further.

“You’re just freakishly tall,” I murmur, feeling her move closer, her front pressing against my chest, hand sliding to my waist. I felt like my knees might give out.

Paige looks at me for a while, her eyes roaming my face. I realise she has never seen me with this little makeup on, this undone. Embarrassment and the effects of the alcohol make my cheeks flush red. Paige bites on her lower lip as her eyes soften.

“You look so beautiful ma,” she whispers, her voice hoarse. And I snap.

My hands wrap around her body and I pull her in, her front flush against mine as our lips clash in a hungry, starved kiss. Her hands are everywhere, my waist, my chest, cupping my ass, pulling me closer by my hair. Paige tilts my face just right to deepen the kiss, her tongue sliding into my mouth with urgency.

I feel the counter digging into my back painfully but I felt too euphoric to mind. She tastes like passionfruit, and most importantly like herself, and her kisses send sparks everywhere. As I moan into her mouth, pulling her closer by her hair, Paige takes it as an invitation and slides her leg between mine, pressing her thigh into my core. I wanted more, needed to feel all of her. It was too late now, I was too far gone. I couldn’t bear to be away from her. I was too weak to try.

Suddenly it rushes back, the nights I spent crying over her, the way she would rush me out of her bed telling me she didn’t like sleepovers. The words she had said to me last I saw her and how it had torn me apart when I got home after my shift. A panic took over me, I wasn’t strong enough to go through that again.

In a rush I push Paige off me, my chest heaving. She wipes her lips, looking at me confused. Grabbing my drink and my mind spinning, I rush out of the kitchen looking for one thing only. I needed to forget.

“Hey where have you be-” Jay starts but I shut her up by kissing her roughly, my hand wrapping around the back of her neck, tongue sliding into her mouth. It felt like nothing compared to Paige, but I tried to forget. I needed this to stop. I needed to force myself to forget.

Jay is taken aback, her blonde hair falling out of the bun she was wearing as I tuck on it. When my lips kiss along her jaw and neck, I hear her chuckling a little, hand rubbing up and down my back. “What’s all this about?” she asks.

I had told her I hated PDA - which in a way was true. With her I did hate PDA. But now my mind was spinning and I was desperately clinging to her like she could help me stay afloat, like she could save me from the depths that were trying to lure me in.

“Just kiss me,” I say breathlessly, returning my lips to hers. Paige walks past us, her arm bumping into me in the tightly packed living room as I kiss Jay in a way I had never kissed her before - with real hunger. Only it wasn’t hunger for her.

As the song switched to the familiar beats of Heartbeat by Childish Gambino, Jay gasps, pulling away from the kiss.

“I love this song!” She shouts over the music, pulling me towards the area where people were dancing. My stomach turns as I’m reminded of all the times me and Paige had fucked while this song played in the background, how many times I had been between her legs, buried into her, the sounds she made, the way her perfect hands gripped my hair.

“You thinking that the songs coming on to tempt me

I need to be alone like the way you left me

You start calling, you start crying

I come over, I'm inside you

I can't find you”

The lyrics blast into my ear when I see Paige in the corner of the room, her hands kneading the ass of that girl she was with, kissing her roughly. It made me sick to my stomach. The way I could see the girl was putty in her arms, Paige’s eyes tightly shut as her lips slid against hers. I hated knowing that other people knew the way her lips felt, the exact pressure of her kiss.

I wrap my arms around the back of Jay’s neck and swing to the song with her, moving my hips as she sings the lyrics, her hands gently on my sides. The red tint of the led lights was making my vision blurry, and the people all around us bumping into me would’ve annoyed me if I hadn’t been so focused on Paige and this girl, still staring straight at them.

“Stupid, so dummy

Say the wrong thing and wrong girls come runnin'

I'm paranoid that these girls want something from me

And it's hard to make a dime go one hundred”

“Thank you for coming here with me,” Jay murmurs into my ear, her tone blissful from how touchy I’d become with her suddenly. My eyes flick to hers and I smile weakly, pressing kisses on her lips when I feel that all too familiar burn of Paige’s eyes on me.

Jay’s lips move to my neck as we keep dancing, and I can’t help the way my eyes flick over her shoulder, to find Paige already staring at me.

”I miss the sex when you kiss whenever you through

Sixty-nine is the only dinner for two”

It’s not the kissing on my neck but the intensity of Paige’s gaze, dark and hungry, that makes me let out a small whimper. Jay smirks against my neck satisfied, thinking it’s all her doing as her hands travel to my hips.

The brunette dancing with Paige says something to her, the eye contact finally breaking, making me feel like I could breathe again. I felt all my emotions swirling in my head, making me feel confused - hate, lust, anger, love, jealousy all overwhelming me. I felt myself sinking.

It feels like the room is spinning when Jay grabs my jaw, her lips pressing into mine harshly as her hands rub up and down my sides. But I had to see Paige. As Jay keeps kissing me I open my eyes, seeing Paige kissing the brunette on the other side of the room, but her eyes are wide open staring right back at me. It’s so hot I nearly moan.

“So we're done? This the real shit?

We used to hold hands like field trips

I'm a jerk, but your dude is a real dick”

The girl clings onto Paige’s t-shirt for dear life, her hand snaking around the back of her neck to pull her in closer. Jay’s hands tighten on my hips, her tongue sliding against my lower lip but I barely notice. My mind is woozy, never breaking eye contact with Paige as the song comes to an end, my core aching with how bad I needed her. We didn’t need any words, we both knew the thoughts going around our heads.

“Are we dating? Are we fucking?

Are we best friends? Are we something in between that?

I wish we never fucked, and I mean that”

“Excuse me,” I murmur to Jay in a haze, pulling away from her kiss and hurrying towards the bathroom. I close the door behind me, about to lock it when I hear a firm knock. Chest already heaving from anticipation, I open the door to find Paige pushing herself in, just as breathless as I was.

Before I have the time to think whether any of this was smart, I’m being backed into the sink, Paige’s lips urgently attacking mine. I immediately whimper into her mouth, my eyes squeezing together involuntarily as my hands slip underneath her white shirt, the need to feel the warmth of her bare skin taking over me.

“Mmh,” Paige moans softly, her hands sliding down my back to my ass, squeezing roughly. Her lips move from my lips to my neck, sucking underneath my ear hard enough to leave marks but at the moment I couldn’t care less. The want I felt for her took over everything, my anger, jealousy, any sense I had.

I throw my head back and look at the ceiling, breathing heavily as Paige’s hand slides to the waistband of my pants, fingertips dipping beneath the fabric already making my legs feel weak.

“Didn’t think you were into short girls,” Paige grins against my neck, her hand itching closer to where my need for her was pooling desperately, aching for her.

“She’s not sh-” I start but an involuntary gasp interrupts me when two of Paige’s fingers slide into me suddenly. Her brows furrow in lust when she feels how wet I am, the way I swallow her fingers up with ease. My hands grip the sink behind me trying to steady myself as Paige’s skilled fingers started pumping in and out of me, curling just right.

“Oh god,” I moan, my head thrown back. Paige grabs my hair and pulls me into a kiss, getting as much pleasure out of this as I did. Her thumb brushes against my clit making me hiss, but she swallows the sound with a needy kiss, other hand holding me up and steady by my hips.

“So wet,” she gasps against my mouth, the speed of her fingers making my head spin. “You this wet for Justine?” Paige whimpers, her breathing laboured against my lips.

I shake my head, my eyes opening for a moment to meet hers as she watches me in awe, like she could never get enough.

“Who you this wet for then?” Paige asks, her pupils dilated and dark as she towered over me. Her fingers were making a quick mess of me, already making me throb around her.

“Shit, ah - for you Paige,” I moan and Paige’s eyes flutter shut at my words, from how bad she had needed to hear that.

“Fuck,” she moans, her fingers pumping at a rapid pace now, the veins in her forearm popping out. “That’s right ma,” Paige coos leaning down and kissing my neck roughly as I felt the familiar knot in my stomach quickly grow. My mind spinning I bring my hand to Paige’s abs, feeling them flex as she worked hard to get me to my peak.

I was gushing around her fingers, surely dripping down her wrist and arm as she quickly worked me to the edge. It was dizzying, when she had me like this - she could’ve made me do anything she wanted. I hadn’t felt like this since the last time we slept together. No one could do what Paige Bueckers did.

Suddenly there’s a knock on the door and Jay’s voice rises over the thumping of the music.

“Riri you in there?”

Paige quickly covers my mouth, but her fingers don’t stop. My eyes widen as she looks at me sternly, telling me to stay quiet with her eyes. I felt myself tighten around her fingers, the tremble in my legs letting Paige know I was close.

Jay tries the door handle, and I thank God Paige locked it. The knocking stops and Paige lets her hand fall away from my mouth, brows furrowing as she looks down between our bodies, hissing.

“Shit, I can feel how tight you are baby,” she murmurs hoarsely, and I feel my eyes roll into the back of my head as her fingertips hit just the right spot to make my orgasm build up fast.

“Oh fuck P-” I whimper, but my mind was spinning too much - I couldn’t come up with anything comprehensible. 

“I know Val,” Paige murmurs into my ear, keeping the steady rhythm of her fingers as she pumps them in and out, thumb rubbing against my clit just enough to bring me to my peak. I don’t have to tell her, she knows.

“Come for me ma,” she coos into my ear, leaving wet kisses on my neck and groaning hoarsely. “S’ wet and tight, all for me.”

With that, an involuntary gasp spills from my lips as I release all over Paige’s fingers, dripping down her hand, my body trembling desperately as I moan as quietly as I could. It was the way the air smelled just like Paige, the pressure of her kisses on my neck, the familiar, perfect way her fingers worked me, all of it made me unravel. 

“Oh shit,” I mumble breathlessly, leaning my head forward and resting it against Paige’s chest. Slowly, Paige pulls her hand away and brings it to her mouth, her tongue licking her fingers clean of me, groaning a little as she tastes me.

I look at her and giggle a little at the way she was savouring the taste, licking her lips hungrily. If Paige Bueckers was anything it was a munch.

“You better wash those hands too,” I tell her, my voice a little whiny from the way she had just made me fall apart, all for her.

Paige smirks a little, licking her lips and leaning down to kiss me. But this kiss was different, it wasn’t hungry, or demanding - it was gentle and soft, I would’ve called it loving if I knew Paige Bueckers loves nothing but basketball.

“Val,” Paige starts. Her nose nuzzles against mine, hands holding my waist when I feel my phone ring in my pocket, interrupting the moment. I quickly pull away and answer, Jay’s voice coming through the other line.

“Riri where are you babe?”

“Uh,” I mumble and move away from Paige’s grip suddenly realising what we had done. I step away, watching her start to wash her hands, jaw clenching as she listens to me speak. “I had to find another bathroom.” 

“Well where you at this party’s getting a little crazy,” Jay asks, clearly drunk.

“Umm, just wait there and I’ll find you,” I tell her and hang up, my cheeks reddening in shame. What was I doing?

Paige dries her hands and fixes her shirt before looking at me. “Let’s head out then?” she asks and I nod, feeling myself start to freak out. I was fucking everything up for a person who couldn’t care less about me. I was raised better than this.

Just as I reach for the lock, the guilt begins to take over. Noticing, Paige grabs my jaw and presses another kiss on my lips. A tender one again, the kind I wasn’t used to getting from her. I feel all the guilt and shame trickle away as she hums against my mouth.

“Okay, let’s go ma.” she murmurs and opens the door for me. The party’s even more packed than before so no one notices when we slide out of the bathroom together. Her hand is on the small of my back as she guides me through the crowd, pushing people away to make sure no one bumped into me.

“Babe!!!” Jay calls out and forces her way over to me and Paige. I quickly push Paige’s hand off the small of my back as Jay reaches us and wraps her arm around my waist urgently.

“Sorry I uh… got a little lost,” I lie looking at the ground and then at Paige. The lie was written all over my face, but Jay was way too drunk to take note of that. Or the brand new purple bruise on my neck.

“Ye, she was knocking on some poor freshman’s door. Prolly scared the shit outta her,” Paige quickly backs up my story, grinning convincingly. My eyes are heavy, still staring at her, unable to look away.

“Of course she did,” Jay giggles and pokes my cheek. I wanna slap her hand away. “Well thanks bro.”

“No problem,” Paige smiles at her. Jay’s hand reaches over to dab her up and I watch, red cheeked and flustered at their hands, me and Paige both knowing that her fingers had just been inside me not more than a few minutes ago.

“Uh we should go I’m tired,” I murmur and offer Paige a weak smile. Her blue eyes stare at my narrowing back as me and Jay push our way through the crowd, into the hallway of the building.

Jay kisses my cheek and wraps her hand in mine as my stomach twisted in guilt.

“She’s so nice,” Jay gushes rubbing her thumb against my skin.

“Huh?” I ask absentmindedly.

“Paige. She’s really nice, who would’ve thought huh.”

I swallow.

“Yeah, she is.” really nice.

-

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