#but i’m back and on (semi) track!
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voidandabyssal · 4 months ago
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Hihi! I was hoping to put in a reqest?
In this, may I ask for underrale bros, underfell, and horrortale? (Underswap to if yiu are willing to do them)
In this, they have been dating reader(Female or male) for about 5-6 years, and they have been comfortable. Reader decided on the 7th anniversary that they go somewhere romantic. (Like Rome, Pairs, etc.) And when it's the last night there, BOOM! The Propose. No warning, no message, nothing. They made sure it was perfect to. Lights, music, favorite foods, perfect.
How will they act? Will they reject the reader or accept?
Hehe this is cute!!
Also I only do four characters per request, so I kept it to that
Red (uf sans):
Funnily enough, red had been working up the nerve to propose to you the entire trip.
He had kept the box tucked away in his back pocket. Every time he reached for it, something seemed to go wrong
Well, either that, or he suddenly just lost the courage to pop the question.
So when you do propose, red breathes a sigh of relief. Though he is a little embarrassed that you’re the one doing it and not him.
Of course he also accepts. He sweeps you up into a bear hug and kisses you
He’s pretty shocked you managed to organise those whole thing without him noticing
Red isn’t going to admit it, but he is incredibly excited for all the wedding planning (ngl he is the bridezilla out of the two of you)
Edge (uf papyrus):
First of all, congratulations on managing to surprise him. Edge is very rarely caught off guard.
But seeing you down on one knee, ring in hand, his mind goes blank
For a moment he stands there not speaking, his mouth dropped open in shock before he quickly sweeps you off your feet
Not one to be stood up, Edge quickly grabs the ring he had bought for you, and had planned to propose with and slips it on your finger as he kisses you
This is truly going to be one of Edges favourite memories. He’ll insist on enjoying as much time together that night
Ignore him if he gets a little weepy! Ignore the tears! They aren’t real! In fact they are a figment of your imagination!!
biggest bridezilla out of these four. Edge is a menace to your poor wedding planner
Axe (ht sans):
Axe can be pretty clueless at times, a traumatic skull injury will do that to you. So he’s pretty much kept completely in the dark
You probably organised this to be somewhere familiar to him, maybe where you first met, Grillbys bar, even just your home
Somewhere safe and welcoming, where Axe doesn’t constantly feel watched or threatened
The moment you propose to Axe is the best moment of his life
Years of survival and suffering all worth it for this one moment
He pulls you in to kiss you. A loud rumbling purr emanates from his chest as he nuzzles at you.
Every time he looks down and spots the ring on his finger he’s enveloped with love. Axe always go searching for you right after for kisses and cuddles
Get ready for a few very affectionate and loving couple of weeks
Honestly you could have proposed to him with a ring pop and he would treat it like it was the biggest most sparkling diamond he had ever seen
Crooks (ht papyrus):
Crooks had a sneaking suspicion you were up to something
You had employed Axe to help you organise everything. Sadly Axe isn’t the hardest or most helpful worker around.
So some things got left lying in plain sight, including the engagement box of all things
Crooks decides to play dumb, let you sort out whatever you’re doing
The moment you propose is pure magic
Crooks bursts into tears, sobbing out a very loud “YES” as he lets you put the ring on his finger
Seeing the giant skeleton break down into tears, you feared he was going to reject you
So it was a relief to have him pull you into a kiss
You have to convince him to not haul you to the courthouse right then and there. Crooks would get married under any circumstances, even if you can’t afford a lavish wedding. Crooks is just so glad to spend the rest of his life with his soulmate
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gojonanami · 1 year ago
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I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF - SATORU GOJO
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✴︎ summary: aka sugar daddy! gojo. when you accompany your friends to a bar rich men and women frequent, you catch the eye of a certain white-haired rich man, who is more than willing to spoil you -- in more than one way. ✴︎ contents: 18+, a lot of smut, fluffy, sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, virgin!reader, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), but w/ feelings, semi-public sex, sex in a changing room, lingerie, nipple play, first time sex ✴︎ wc: 9,065
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This had to be the dumbest idea you had let yourself be convinced to do. 
You sat in a bar, nursing a soda instead of a drink (because it was all you could afford), and you glanced at your group of friends who had all split off to chat up a different man. And meanwhile, there you were, at the bar alone. 
Your friends had seen a video or article online with a list of places that rich men tended to frequent, and after another dinner of instant ramen and looking at your dwindling bank account, you let yourself be dragged along to this bar.
You were surprised how easy it was for you all to be let in, but you supposed young clientele also helped to attract the rich ones the bar was really after. It was the perfect place to find a sugar daddy, or mommy. In your case, you were hoping to just find someone who would pay your bills month to month and possibly your tuition. But now you were just hoping someone would talk to you, much less anything else. 
You had sat here for about twenty minutes, and not a single person had approached you — you had felt a few men and women alike eye you, but none had spoken even a word to you. Heat crept up your cheeks and insecurities bit at your nerves as you stirred your drink absentmindedly — you were such an idiot— you should have just stayed in today, snuggled up in bed and watched Netflix—
“Mind if I sit here?” And your gaze snaps from your flat soda, ocean blue eyes stopping your breath in its tracks, his lips curled in all too tempting smile, and his snowy locks just tousled enough to look natural. 
“Not at all,” you manage to say, surely you were gonna catch flies if you didn’t pick up your jaw off the floor. He was gorgeous — as he slid into the stool beside you, his baby blue button up showed off his toned physique, his sleeves rolled up, as he looked over the menu. 
“Can I order you a drink?” a smile on his lips as he offered you the menu — non-presumptuous and didn’t order your drink for you — was he even real? 
“Just another soda, I don’t drink often, and I’m the designated driver for tonight,” though, as you glanced at your groupchat, you didn’t think many of your friends would be making it back tonight, at least not with you. 
“A woman after my own heart— two sodas please,” he ordered, “I’m not a huge fan of alcohol either. I prefer things that are sweet,” and his gaze slides over your body, “are you?” 
And you flush, trying to look nonchalant as your drinks arrive, “Take a guess,” and he hums, as he takes a careful sip of his drink, eyeing you. 
“Oh sweetheart, I don’t guess — I intend to know,” your eyes snap to his, playful mirth in his eyes, “and if you have a price, I’m more than willing to pay it,” he places his platinum credit card on the bar, sliding it to the bartender, “start a tab for me and the beauty right here,” he flashed a wink at you. 
Even though this is exactly what you had come “You don’t have to—“ 
“But I want to,” he leans forward, his lengthy fingers brushing against your hand, giving you ample time to withdraw, but you don’t, your fingers intertwining with his, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles, “you deserve to be taken care of, sweetheart,” 
You bite your lip, “and how do you know that? You don’t know me,” 
And he tilts his head, a wry grin on his face, “I know enough, baby, and I know that I want to be the one to take care of you,” he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing it against your palm, “now what do you say? I’m sure we can reach an agreement that you’d enjoy,” and his other hand brushes your thigh lightly, “and that I’d enjoy as well,” 
Your lips part as you stare at him — he could have anyone he wanted, that much was clear — the wealth, the affluence, not to mention his charm and looks — but he wanted you. 
And who were you to say no? 
He dropped you home that night, having his driver fetch your car for you after. You both sat in the back of his town car, his hand resting on your thigh, as he spoke to you, his breath warming your skin, as he leaned against you. He didn’t ask to come in or to take you to his place, instead he helped you out of his car, walking you to your apartment’s doorstep. His fingers resch inside his coat pocket, and handed you his business card, his personal number scrawled on the back. 
His fingers ghost over your jaw, as he tilts your chin up, the low buzz of the overhead light drowned out by your heart thumping against your ribcage, “Call me, ok?” And you nod wordlessly, breath hitching as he drew close. 
“Good girl,” he smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I’ll talk to you soon,” he winks, before heading back to his car, “you won’t regret it.” 
But here you sat, staring at his business card the next morning, the only proof that what happened wasn’t a dream, as you lie awake, staring at the number typed into your phone. 
Satoru Gojo. 
How do you do this? Hey it’s the person you hit on at a bar and propositioned to be a sugar baby? 
But you couldn’t get him out of your head — it wasn’t just the money, he was…smooth. 
Fuck it. 
You go to text him, but fate is cruel, and you hit the call button by mistake. You end the call quickly, and contemplate throwing your phone out the window, when your phone starts flashing with the exact number you had called. 
Double fuck. 
You panicked, as it rang, then taking a breath and picking the call up, “Hello?” 
“Gotta hand it to you, sweetheart, didn’t think you’d be so bold to call me,” Satoru is chuckling over the line, the sounds of the road in the background, and it was clear he was driving somewhere, “but it’s a pleasant surprise,” 
“Is it?” you ask, and he hums, a noise that sends heat across your cheeks. 
“Very,” he cuts to the chase, cutting over any of the silence that could linger, “could we have dinner tonight?” 
“Tonight?” 
“I don’t like to waste time when it comes to things I want,” and you’re glad he can’t see you — your knuckles pressed against your lips, “are you free?” 
“I am,” you say slowly, “but I wanted to ask, after dinner what would the expectations be?” You had no idea how any of this worked, what the arrangement would be, or how it would be handled. 
“There are no expectations except for your time,” he says, “we can take this at your pace, your rules, your limits - we are getting to know each other, and we both happen to want more, I’d be more than happy to make that happen,” and his words nearly make you shiver, “does that sound good, princess?” 
“Perfect,” you murmur, and he chuckles, “what time—” 
“7:00 PM — I’ll send a car for you. I have your address noted, and I have a little dress picked out for you if you’re comfortable with that?” 
You hold your burning cheeks, “Sounds too good to be true,” 
And he hums, “Well, perfect,” he echoes you, “because that’s what we both are.” 
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The car is prompt when picking you up, and your roommates help you get ready — thoroughly jealous when they see a selfie the two of you had taken that night. And then the doorbell rings, and the three of you are rushing towards the door. 
“Tell us everything don’t miss a detail,” your roommates yell-whisper, “hot, charming, and so rich? I hate you,” 
And you shush them opening the door, as Satoru stands in a blue button up, simple slacks, and a grin that made your knees nearly buckle, “Well I am rich, she ain’t lying,” he offers you a bouquet of flowers — your favorites, all arranged perfectly, “and I’d like to think I’m the others as well,” 
“Satoru, they’re beautiful,” you inhale their scent, before you furrow your brow, “how did you know—“ 
“Lucky guess,” he smiled, fingers finding your own, “I guess we have the same taste in flowers, beautiful — great minds,” and he plucks the flowers and hands it to your roommates, “please take care of these, and I’ll be sure to take care of your gorgeous friend,” 
And he’s whisking you into the car, opening the door for you, as he slides in beside you, his arm sliding behind you, “do you mind?” 
And your heart squeezes, he’s so close, you could smell his cologne — a musky, amber smell mixed with his own scent — his strong arm brushing against your back, and as you peered up at him, a smile on his parted lips, as he stared at you with his cerulean gaze. 
“Not at all.” 
God, you were in trouble. 
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“How’d you like this to work, sweetheart?” And you nearly choke on your drink at his blunt question, dinner now finished, as the two of you wait for dessert, his lips curled in his perfect smile as always, “I just want us to have an understanding, so I don’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” 
You shake your head, “No, you’re right,” dinner had gone on fine — the restaurant he picked was impeccable, the prices must have been astronomical (not a single price on the menu itself), and the atmosphere of the corner booth gave the perfect illusion of privacy, “we should talk about it,” 
The financial aspect is simple enough — he offers a stipend that was more money than you could fathom and even consider accepting — but after discussion, you settle on him paying for your tuition and other educational needs as well as a monthly stipend. 
“But this doesn’t include anything I choose to treat you to,” he smiles, fingers toying with the hem of the dress, making you almost shiver under his touch, “like this dress or this dinner,” 
“Fine,” you smile, gaze still shying away, “there’s still the matter of what I do for you,” you bite your lip, swirling your drink in its glass, “I’ve never done this before,” you admit, tucking a stray strand behind your ear, and he tilts his head. 
“Nooo, I would have mistaken you for a pro,” he teases, and your cheeks flush, as you sip your drink, mostly for bravery  — that was true, you had never done the sugar daddy thing — but that wasn’t what you meant. 
“I mean that too, I’ve never had this sort of arrangement, but,” you toy with the napkin spread across your lap, “I’ve also never…been with anyone before,” 
And he pauses mid-sip of whatever fruity drink he had ordered — more juice than alcohol (he didn’t prefer the taste of liquor), “At all?” 
You flush, swallowing thickly, as your eyes looked down at your lap, “I’ve been on dates, but never beyond hand holding — I’ve never let it get beyond that,” you never had much an interest, and the people you were interested in had never truly reciprocated— until, you glance at Satoru, now. 
He sets his glass down, his lips curled, “but with us — you think there’s a chance that—“ and you squirm under his gaze, “of well—“ 
And his gaze softens, “You never have to feel obligated to do that — no matter what we agree on for what I can do to help accommodate you, I don’t want you to feel like I’m paying a price for your body,” before he adds with a cheeky smile, “unless that turns you on,” 
You huff a laugh out, chewing on your lip, “I appreciate that, but,” you finish the rest of your drink, before sliding closer in the booth, your thigh pressing against his, “I want to know what it’s like,” and you lean forward, all too close, but he dares even closer. 
His fingers find your jaw, tilting your gaze up, “And you’re sure, Princess?” his breath warms your lips, and you can smell the sweet smell of his drink on his, “there’s no rush,” 
“Who said anything about rushing?” you murmur, and you don’t know if it's the intoxication from the alcohol or from Satoru Gojo himself, but your lips graze his first, barely even. Your lips parted as you brushed your lips for a moment, before sliding away a centimeter, “Satoru—”
But his lips find yours again, fingers cupping your cheek gently, thumb gliding along the soft slope of your cheekbone, “You’re right, you’re not something to be rushed,” he murmurs, words as smooth as velvet, “you’re something to be savored,” and his lips slide against yours, swallowing your gasp as he deepens the kiss with the tilt of your heads, before he’s pulling away, allowing you a moment, “does that mean I’m your first kiss?” 
And you nod, with kiss ruined lips parted and chest rising and falling, eyes half lidded with pleasure and excitement — all of which makes him want to kiss you breathless, kiss you silly until you have no thoughts but of him, “I’m sure I’m not yours,” you tease, a small smile on your lips, but a slight anxiety about your inexperience lingering in your words. 
He only chuckles, wrapping his arm around you to draw you closer, one hand cupping your jaw and the other sliding through your locks, “But you’re the only one that matters, sweetheart,” and he’s kissing you again, and your lips begin to learn the dance he was teaching you, as he steals your breath and sense in one fell swoop. And when his tongue asks for entrance, he swallows your gasp with a smile, as you part your lips for him. And you swear you almost hear him murmur, “good girl,” between fevered kisses and touches.
Now, his body leaning into you, pressing you against the plush leather of the booth, his hand rested on your thigh now, toying with the hem of the very same dress he had bought you, “Satoru,” you sigh, as your lips finally part a moment, foreheads resting against each other. His eyes take you in, kiss bitten red lips, your cheeks flushed. 
His lips kiss your cheeks, and then your forehead, “I think I should take you home,” his thumb rubs against your lips, pulling at the bottom one.
“What about dessert?” and he shakes his head. 
“There’s only one dessert I’m craving at the moment,” he murmurs, crystal eyes lidded with lust, as he cups your cheek, “and I wouldn’t be keeping my promise if I indulged, now would i?” 
“And if I offered…dessert?” and he makes a noise — a cross between a hiss and a sigh, before shaking his head. 
“I want to do this right,” he murmurs, “I know this isn’t a relationship, but it’s like one — and I want you to enjoy it, and if we rush into things, you may end up getting hurt, and not in the enjoyable way,” he pinches the soft flesh of your thigh teasingly, “let’s get you home, princess, and we can plan our next outing, and our next step,” 
And you rise, as he helps you out of the booth, as the waiter comes over, “Have you changed your mind about dessert?”
Satoru hands him his card, paying off the tab without even a glance at the receipt, “Yes, I had something far more sweeter and satisfying,” he winks at you, as he pockets his card again. He escorts you to the car, hand resting on the small of your back, his side pressed to yours, as if he was afraid you’d slip away any moment. 
The car ride home was spent with quiet conversation and stolen kisses, your hand slid up his thigh to tease him, as his lips slide over a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, both of you moaning lowly, as he stares at you with lidded eyes, “You sure you’ve never done this before?” 
“Promise,” you flush, a rush of pride settling into heat as you saw the way he looked at you, before your lips find his again, “but you make me never want to stop,” and he growls lowly, leaning forward his hand snaking around your waist to nearly pin you down on the seat. 
“Say more words like that and I may lose the hint of self control I have,” he groans, and he’s kissing you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth again, as you slide your hand into his hair, finding smoothness underneath his white locks — an undercut, fuck. 
“Maybe I want you to,” you murmur, and he pulls back to look at you with his crystal gaze, dark pools of lust that made you shiver, his fingers digging into your waist. 
“Don’t tempt me,” and he’s about to kiss you again, when the driver clears his throat, and the two of you glance out the tinted window and realize you have arrived back home. And the fact of the matter was the car hadn’t been moving for quite some time. 
You bite your lip, “Do you want to—” 
And he kisses you softly, his fingers tracing over your jaw, “I want to, but we should take this slow,” he presses another kiss to your cheek that only serves to make me pout, “it will be worth it,” and he leans in to kiss your other cheek, but you turn your head to meet his lips in another kiss, making his breath catch, as you pull away with a smirk. His lips parted, as his gaze darkens, “such a tease, princess — I was thinking you were an angel that I was corrupting, but maybe you’re the one doing the corrupting.” 
“As I should be,” you grin, before pulling open the door, moving to slide out of the car, “call me?” 
“If I don’t, I can always count on you calling me first,” he teases with a wink, “I’ll call tomorrow, dream of me, ok?” 
“And if I don’t?” and he laughs, leaning forward with that smile that always made your heart stammer in your chest. 
“Oh, you will.” 
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“Satoru,” you whined, “can we—” 
“So impatient,” Satoru chides, chuckle rumbling from his chest, voice deliciously raspy from the makeout session they had just had, “forgot how needy you are, baby,” 
And how could you not be? Splayed across his lap, your back pressed to his chest, thighs spread across his now very damp slacks, your dress riding up on either side as his hands slid up your bare legs, his touch teasing enough to have you on edge, your panties growing more drenched by the moment. 
“I need—” 
“You don’t know what you need,” Satoru murmurs, as his fingers brush your hair aside, “do ya, baby? You just want—” and his fingers finally tease your inner thigh, “more, don’t you? Such a greedy little princess,” 
“Only for you,” and that makes him groan in your ear, his lips pressing a kiss behind it, before sucking at your earlobe, “please, Satoru,”
“We have a shopping trip planned, baby, gotta get you some new clothes for our little vacation, don’t we?” He hums, his fingers toying with the edge of your panties, “especially since you keep ruining all of yours,” 
“You’re the one ruining them, baby,” you pout, your lips pressing wet kisses along his jaw, “I know we promised to take it slow, but please, I’ve been so good— don’t I deserve a little reward?” 
He hums, two fingers pulling and snapping the elastic of your panties against your skin, “Let’s go shopping and I’ll see about your reward, Princess,” and your lips purse, as he chuckles, lips pressing against yours, “don’t worry it will be worth the wait.” 
And it was. 
That was how you ended up in this particular predicament, pressed against a changing room wall, the black dress he had insisted on you trying on for him, hiked up around your waist, as his thumb pressed against your puffy clit. 
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, pretty baby?” Satoru coos, his finger beginning to press against the growing wet patch on your panties, “wanted to reward you, and you look so pretty and perfect in this dress, how can I resist?” 
And a whine leaves your throat, and he tuts, “Not so loud, don’t want the other shoppers to hear what we’re doing,” and his fingers finally pull aside the crotch of your soaked underwear, “you’re so fuckin’ wet, baby, you sure this pussy is a virgin?” 
“Satoru, please,” and he pulls your lips into a sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth, right as his finger finally sinks into your needy cunt. He swallows your moans eagerly, as his thick finger curls against your gummy walls, reaching places you were never able to by yourself. 
“So fuckin’ tight, sweetheart, gonna break my finger, how would I fit my cock in this tight cunt?” And he drags his bulge against your ass, making you gasp at the size of it, “Gonna have to stretch it out, make you nice and loose for me,” 
“Fuck,” you whisper, and he’s grinning as his lips press sweet kisses against your neck, his finger pumping in and out slowly, your slick squelching as he does, finger brushing against that spot that has your knees nearly buckling, “Satoru, I—“ 
“Already gonna cum, baby?” he’s humming, while your lips try and fail to pout, mouth falling open in a silent moan as your walls flutter around his finger, as he fucks you through your orgasm.
But he’s not stopping, as your hand reaches for him, he’s caught you by the wrist, a second finger sinking into your dripping cunt now, “not done with you yet, pretty baby, I know you got more left for me,” he’s scissoring and stretching your walls - curling his fingers just right so he hits that special spot of yours. And it isn’t long until you’re cumming again, his hand covering your mouth, muffling your moan as you ride his fingers. 
“Satoru, please,” you’re nearly crying from the overstimulation, but you’re refusing to use your safe word, as he guides you and him to the seat in the fitting room, sitting on his lap right across from the mirror. 
“Look at you, all fucked out and pretty for me,” his fingers under your chin forces you to look at yourself —- your cunt dripping and spread open, his fingers plunged inside you still, your slick dripping down his hand, “so perfect for me,” he murmurs, “think you have one more for me?” 
His fingers move slowly, parting your walls, making you gasp, “Too sensitive,” you whine, but he’s sliding your lips against yours again, as his fingers begin to push into you, “Satoru,” 
“C’mon baby, this is your reward,” he’s grinning against your lips, “just relax and enjoy it,” 
And you don’t know how many more times he makes you cum. By the end, the dress you’re wearing was ruined, damp from the cum dripping down your thighs, “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it,” he’s cleaning you up, before sliding your underwear back into place, “now let’s find some other clothes for you, baby — need to get you out of this dress now, don’t we?” 
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“Do you want to stay over?” Satoru murmurs, his lips pressed to your neck, making you pause, “I’d stay over at your place, but with your roommates we’ll have an audience,” and he adds, “unless you’re into that,” 
And you roll your eyes, before smiling, “what would staying over entail?” 
“Anything you’d want it to,” he’s kissing your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your lips,“I just want to wake up with you — maybe make breakfast together, maybe a little more if you want to,” 
“That sounds perfect,” and you knew just what you wanted for breakfast. 
“Princess,” he hissed, his ocean blue eyes half lidded as he stared at you between his thighs, “this isn’t what I meant when I said I’d make you breakfast,” 
And you pressed a kiss to his weeping tip — you never expected a cock to be so pretty — but why wouldn’t it be on Satoru Gojo? If a higher being existed, it gave with both hands when it came to him — the tip was flushed red, every vein and curve was perfect, and it was so long. 
“Well this was exactly what I had in mind,” you grinned, your tongue flicked against his slit, collecting the pearl of precum resting there, “couldn’t wait to taste you, Toru — if I couldn’t have you fuck my cunt, I might as well have you fuck my mouth,” 
He swallows thickly at your words, adam’s apple bobbing, crystalline pools clouded with lust, “Careful what you wish for, Princess,” 
“I’m always careful,” you suckle at the swollen tip of his cock sloppily, drawing a moan from his lips. It was clear you were inexperienced — your lips and tongue were clumsy, your fingers grasping at his base were unsure, but the heat in your eyes only made all of your inexperience all the more arousing, “tell me what to do,” 
And Satoru swallows thickly, eyes fluttering down at you, as his lips slowly curl, “start by sucking at the tip, slowly at first,” and you do just as he says, all too eager, making him liable to cum on the spot, “now trace the slit at the tip with your tong—” and he grunts as you’re already doing as he says before his sentence is done, “good girl,” and the praise sends a wave of heat through your body, your needy cunt growing wetter by the second.
“Now, want you to slide my cock into your mouth, mind your teeth,” he warns, “no rewards for bad girls who bite my dick — that’s a lesson for a different day,” he adds with a wink, making you hum around his cock, making it twitch, as you take more of his length, slowly sliding it further into your warm mouth. 
He’s grunting, holding himself back from fucking your mouth then and there — there would be time for that, but right now, he needed to teach you right. 
He was a teacher — first and foremost. 
“Just like that, pretty,” he’s moaning, his fingers gently gripping your head, guiding your mouth up and down his cock, “that’s it — fuuuuck—” and he’s hissing when your fingers toy with his balls, as your tongue traces over his veins, forcing every muscle in his thighs from having you deep throat his cock then and there, “now can you—” 
And you suck at his cock, lips wrapped around, as you stare up at him, eyes lidded with lust, thighs pressed together, as you slurped at his cock, your tongue flicking at his slit, “baby, you sure you’ve never done this before?” and his hips begin to stutter against you, making you gasp around his length, “so fucking perfect for me, baby — know what I like without even trying,” 
And how is he this fucking close already? Is he the virgin or are you? His hips roll into your mouth shallowly, your fingers finding what couldn’t fit in your mouth and stroking it, all while his fingers grasp at the mussed sheets below him, “fuck, sweetheart, ‘m s’close,” and you’re only re-doubling your efforts, cheeks hollowing around him, “you don’t have to—“ but you suck at the tip, tongue laving at his length, and he’s spurting his load down your throat. 
His head falls back, as his hips stutter into your mouth, fingers tugging at your hair, drawing a moan from your lips. And his half lidded eyes falling to your lips around his cock, his cum slipping down the corner of your mouth as you continue to swallow.
“Fuck, baby,” he’s panting, hissing at the sight of you as you pull your lips away from his length, strings of his cum and your spit connecting your mouth to his cock, “such a good fucking girl,” he says, nearly a growl, “my good fucking girl,” 
You’re smiling up at him, watery eyes, as your tongue darts out to clean up his release from your mouth, making his breath catch, “You taste so good, Toru,” and god, you’re so cute — he wanted to spoil you, buy you the whole world and more, and he catches your thighs rubbing together — but first— 
And he’s manhandling you, fingers sinking into your thighs and he’s flipping you onto your back, his chest still heaving, sweat glistening on his forehead, and a grin on his lips. 
“My turn,” he murmurs, sliding his lips against yours, tongue tasting his release on your mouth, before kissing down your body, before he’s settling between your thighs. 
—he was going to have his breakfast. 
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The semester wore on and Satoru became more and more busy with work. His messages became few and far between, and your time together dwindled to nothing. Although he still sent the stipend each month, you found your thoughts wandering to him far too often — daydreams between paragraphs of reading and review for an exam that you didn’t particularly care about. 
This should be the dream right? Money for essentially no effort. You had long forsaken the days of ramen noodle dinners and scraping by on your loans — you should be happy. You could go where you wanted, do what you wanted — but why was the only place you wanted to be was with Satoru? You pulled out your phone, refreshing the notifications over and over as if it would change the outcome — but it didn’t — still no new messages from him. 
Was he really busy with work? Anxiety begins to creep into your mind — or was he busy with someone else? Had he been hanging onto you on the back burner — waiting for someone better to come along? You open Satoru’s text chain — the last message sent was your own — and you chew on your bottom lip. 
Were you about to break your own rule about double texting? 
You type — Hey, just wanted to check on you. Been thinking about you a lot. 
You delete it. Is this desperate? What if he thinks you’re desperate? You’re running your hand over your face, pressing your knuckles against your lips.  
Fuck it. You type the same message and send it. 
Oh, it’s worse. Texting and having to wait for a response is worse — and now you simultaneously want to constantly check your phone and also chuck it in a lake. You lay back on your bed, turning and burying your face in your pillow. 
What the fuck were you doing? 
Several hours pass, and you place your phone in the kitchen, as you sit in your room, trying to focus on studying for your exams, instead of thinking about whether Satoru texted you back or not. You finally allow yourself a break at dinner time, and wander out, spotting a few texts from Satoru. Your heart squeezes as you pick up your phone and check. 
Hey baby, is that your way of saying you miss me? 
Because I miss you too. 
When’s your last exam? 
You bite back a smile — it’s on this Friday — I’ll be done at 6:00 PM. 
He types, and then stops, then types again, and then stops. Then he sends a simple “ok.” 
And you don’t hear from him again, which only makes the rest of the week a delight to get through. You’re sure you scraped by on your exams — Friday didn’t come soon enough, but it had arrived. You stretch as you leave the exam hall — bundled up in your jacket, as you make your way back to your apartment. But only, you're not the only one outside the building. 
Satoru stands, leaning against the side of the car, eyes on his phone as he stands in a long deep gray winter coat, a cream sweater underneath, looking utterly too perfect. He glances up, cerulean blue eyes finding yours, lips curling in a smile that you hoped was only reserved for you. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” and you’re holding yourself back from running, quickly walking over, and he’s closing the gap as well, pulling you into his arms, his arms sliding over your jacket — “is this all you’re wearing? We need to buy you a warmer coat,” 
“Satoru,” you’re shaking your head at his priorities, your fingers sliding over his front before sliding them under his jacket, “what are you doing here?” 
“Well, my project finished up earlier today, so I spent the day preparing a little surprise,” he’s tilting your chin up, leaning down to brush his lips against your jaw, and you shiver — most assuredly not from the cold, “we’re going on a trip,” 
“A trip?” you blink, utterly too distracted by his lips placing wet kisses up and down your jaw, nearing your lips, but always stopping short, “where—” 
“A hot spring — I thought we could use some rest and relaxation,” his lips hover right over your own, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip, “and some privacy — I reserved us a private hot spring,” and his palms slide down to your hips and squeeze, “just you and me,” 
“That sounds amazing — wonder what else you have planned,” your lips lean up and brush against his, making his curl into a smile, and your heart stirs — god, you didn’t care about the money, about the amenities, about the dates — he could have just taken you for a walk and you’d be happy by his side, “I missed you so much, Toru,” 
And he’s kissing you again, his hand sliding back to hold the back of his neck, deepening the kiss before he pulls away. You’re panting as he does, lips kiss bitten red, “I did too, baby, it was so difficult being without you — kept thinking about seeing you. I had to hold myself back from seeing you the minute you texted,” he’s sighing, “but that’s why I thought this weekend would be perfect — spend it just with each other, no distractions,” 
“Toru,” you murmur, “I need to tell you something,” you can’t hold back — you need to tell him, you need him to know, and his lips press into a pout, forehead wrinkled, “I think I have feelings for you — more than what our relationship should have,” your cheeks flush, eyes falling to the ground, and you watch your breath warm the cold air, “I don’t know if you feel the same or if we should stop, but I needed you to know because I—” 
And his finger rests against your lips, eyes nearly shining in the moonlight, “You really mean that, sweetheart?” and you swallow the lump in your throat, before nodding. And he grins, before his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, pulling you impossibly closer, wrapping you in his jacket as he presses himself against you, “I have feelings for you too — I have for a while,”
“You—do?” you manage between kisses and breathes, and you look up at him with wide eyes and parted lips — and you’re so impossibly cute — he has to hold himself back from taking you against his car then and there — “Satoru, please—” 
“I do, I do, sweetheart, you said you’ve never done any of this before, well I’ve never done half of the things I’ve done with you,” he murmurs, a chuckle caught in his words, “do you think I’d plan a trip like this for just anyone? I’ve never even engaged in this sort of relationship before — until I saw you,” 
You pause, mouth agape, “So you’ve never had a different—” 
“You’re my one and only baby,” he teases, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, “and worth every cent, second, and effort I’ve used,” And you bite back a smile, eyes slightly glassy, “what?” 
“I thought — I don’t know, when I hadn’t heard from you, I thought you had found someone else, that you were going to leave, and it just seems so silly now,” you shake your head, but he’s cupping your chin, meeting your gaze. 
“It is silly, baby,” he’s pressing another kiss to your lips, “because I’d never leave you — and I’m not planning on it, are you?” 
“No! No, of course not,” and he laughs at your eager reply, making your cheeks hot, as he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, “Toru—” 
“At this rate, you’re gonna make me fall for you, princess,” and your fingers card through his hair, grinning as kisses your neck, and you make him look at you — pale skin flushed from the weather or your touch, it could be either. 
“That’s the plan.” 
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“Was this part of your plan?” Satoru’s voice is caught, as looks at you — oh and he could look at you forever. 
Your innocent lips painted pink, a perfect accent to the light cerulean lingerie that you had wrapped yourself in. The lace and see through panels left almost nothing to the imagination, but at the same time, hid just enough. You were a present ready to be unwrapped — and you wanted him to do the unwrapping. 
“You tell me,” you chuckle, twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers, letting your legs spread further apart, making him drop the bouquet he was holding, “nothing to say?” 
It had been a few weeks since your trip away and you had been hinting at wanting to finally have your first time with Satoru. But each time, he always ended up fingering you or sucking you off — he was hesitant, he didn’t want you to regret your choice. 
But how to explain that you could never regret him? Well, this was the only way to think of — a hammer instead of a gentle hand. 
And his gaze grows lidded, mouth dry, as he steps forward, “sweetheart—“ 
“You kept saying you wanted our first time to be special, but you don’t get it—“ you reach out and tug him closer by his tie, “my first time will always be special if it’s you,” you kiss his jaw, smiling, and he’s wordless as he stares at you, hesitancy eating away at your confidence “but if you don’t want—“ 
And he’s got you pinned under him, knee pressed between your thighs, his fingers sliding up and down your exposed skin of your sides, his perfect lips curved in a smile, “I guess we’re really not understanding each other, baby,” his lips ghost over the nape of your neck, as he inhaled deeply, before pulling back, his thumb now dragging over your lips, “I want you — badly,” and his fingers tease the fabric of your lingerie, “you don’t know how many times I’ve come close to giving into you, to wanting to just fuck you like I’ve dreamed about, fantasized about — but, I guess I was waiting for a perfect moment that didn’t exist — since every moment with you is special, right?” He teased, making you flush. 
“I want you too, Toru, so bad,” you rub yourself against his knee, “I can’t wait anymore, are you gonna fuck me or—“ 
His knee grinding against you cuts you off with a whine, “don’t tempt me so much, sweetheart, we gotta do this right,” his lips find yours again, all tongue and teeth, as he swallows your noises and more with pleasure, his knee rubbing against you in earnest, “gotta prep you right,” he murmurs reverently. 
His lips trail from your lips to press wet kisses to your jaw, and his fingers part your thigh further — and you let him with ease. And his lips tease the edge of your lingerie, “it’d be a shame to take this off, so maybe I’ll just take you in it,” his mouth closes over your clothed nipple, teasing it through the fabric, making you gasp,  “but then again, I wouldn’t  be able to see your body without any obstructions. Decisions, decisions,” 
And he’s snapping the shoulder strap against your skin, as he pulls his knee away, the dark damp patch on the fabric, “Plesse, Toru, I need more—“ and his lips curl, as his fingers tease your clothed cunt, two fingers dragging right down the slit. The wet fabric barely doing anything to stop the press of his pads against your sensitive folds. 
“So wet for me already, sweetheart? I’m flattered,” he grins, leaning down to inhale, before a soft moan leaves his lips, “your scent is as good as you taste,” making you keen against him at his words — you could never grow used to the sight of him between your thighs, his blue irises fixed on your cunt. 
“Just for you, Toru,” and he bites back a groan, his gaze half lidded with lust, “only for you,” 
He can’t wait anymore. 
He kisses up your body, teasing your bellybutton with his tongue, dragging his mouth up your abdomen until he reaches your lips. And he kisses you again, lips burning against yours, stealing any coherent thought with only a brush of his lips or a stolen touch of your thighs. But now his lips reach the waistband of your lacy panties, giving another broad lick, tasting you through the soaked material, before he’s sliding two fingers inside the elastic tugging it down your legs. 
“As much I love your lingerie — it needs to go,” and he’s sniffing the fabric with a small moan, before pocketing it with a wide grin,  “for now,” 
“Toru, those were expensive—“ 
“I know, my money paid for them,” he winks, making you shiver with a graze of his teeth against your inner thigh, “I’ll buy you as many as you like, as long I’m the only one taking them off,” his warm breath makes your cunt twitch as his fingers part your pussy, stretching out your walls — so fucking tight,  “s’pretty, all for me,” his thumb brushing against your clit, making you whine, “so needy, pretty girl — you need my cock that bad?” He’s thumbing your chin, making you meet his gaze and his cock throbs — you were already so fucked out — chest nearly heaving, your breasts nearly escaping their cups; your lips parted with pants and soft moans; and your eyes fixed on him, lidded and needy — it was enough for him to cum there and then. 
Was he the virgin or were you? 
“I’ll give you my cock, baby,” his tongue finally licks up your cunt, savoring the taste of you on his tongue — sweetest thing he’d ever had — “but I’m going to have your cunt first,” 
You’re a mess — moaning and twitching as your fingers grasp at his snowy locks, white strands between your fingers bury him deeper in your aching warmth, thighs nearly suffocating him — and he wouldn’t want to die any other way, honestly. Fuck, how is he so good at this? Two seconds, and you’re ready to squirt all over his face — the way his tongue drags against your insides and flicks against your clit, before sliding back into your sweet cunt, making your walls twitch around him. 
And he can’t help but grind against his sheets and mattress, surely leaving a stain on his pants — but fuck, he couldn’t help it. All he couldn’t help it — all he wanted to was sink into you, bury himself deep inside, until he made you cum over and over — but he wanted this to be good for you. 
It’s when his lips close around your clit and suck as your fingers sink into you once again and fuck you open when it’s all over for you. You’re moaning unabashedly now, your back arching and your legs trembling as you cum hard, his name on your lips in an almost scream, as he only eats you out through your orgasm, tongue lapping every drop of your release, as you come down from your high. Intense pleasure ebbs away to slight twitches and heavy pants, as you look down at him with fucked out eyes, his face absolutely covered in your glossy release, as his pink tongue darts out to collect the rest, back of his hand taking care of the rest, your cunt convulsing at the sight of him. 
“Know it was good, but didn’t realize it was that good,” and he’s leaning up, sliding off the bed to strip off his jacket before undo the buttons of his shirt’s cuffs, fingers deftly undoing his button-up now, “so perfect for me,” and he’s pulling his phone from his pocket, as he leans down to part your thighs for him, his gaze dark with lust as he snaps a few pictures of your leaking cunt, “such a pretty princess cunt,” and you hear the clink of his belt as he undoes it, your gaze lifting as your eyes raked over his defined abs and muscles, following all the way down to his v-line and below…
Fuck. 
You knew he was big — hell you could barely fit him in your mouth, but how the fuck was he going to fit inside you? And your nerves come back full force, but mixed with an excitement — an excitement and a relief that your first time — your first time would be with someone you loved, would be with someone that the word ‘love’ failed to encompass your feelings for. 
Even when he was a teasing ass. 
“Like what you see, baby?” he’s grinning, as he drags his engorged tip against your fluttering walls, smearing his pre-cum against yours, groaning as he watches it mix, “fuck, been dreaming about this for so long,” as he leans over you to press a kiss to your sweet lips, the lust mixing with love — an entire ocean of love that threatens to drown you if you look for too long, “are you sure?” the words are said with such concern, such care, such gentleness that it almost makes you want to cry — but you don’t know why. 
“I am, always, when it’s you,” and your fingers find his cheek, as you lean up to kiss him, his lips curved in a smile reserved for you. 
“Don’t go getting all soft on me now, sweetheart,” and you laugh. 
“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you, old man—” and you gasp as he presses the tip against your entrance, waiting for your go-head to push in — but that doesn't mean he couldn’t make you eat your words. 
“What was that, baby?” it’s his turn to laugh and yours to pout, before you’re pulling him close again. 
“Satoru, please—” and your gazes meet again, and there’s no need for any more discussion. He moves slow, lining himself up, making sure he is lubricated enough to slip into you. 
“If I’m hurting you—-” 
“I’ll scream,” you tease, and he snorts. 
“I’d like to see you screaming for a different reason, but that works too,” and he’s leaning down to capture your lips once more, as he sinks into you slowly. Your lips part in a gasp, your expression twisting with the discomfort you felt, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t tolerate, and his eyes meet yours, as you give a nod, and inch by inch, he fits himself in you — until he finally bottoms out. 
You both groan, his fingers running through your hair, “So fucking perfect f’me, sweetheart,” and he’s not moving, letting you get used to him filling you up, “I know, it’s so much, isn’t it, baby? But you’re doing so well,” and his lips met yours again, as the slight discomfort ebbs away, all you feel is want, want as his tip finds your cervix, want as you feel your walls meld to his shape, and want when you hear the low groan stuck in his throat, “good girl, my best girl,” 
And you can’t help the desperate whine that parts your throat, “Please, move,” you nod, and that’s all he needs for him to pull back and thrust back in, pulling gasps and moans from your pretty lips. 
“That’s it, baby,” he grunts, as he falls into a rhythm, “fuck, your cunt is practically sucking me back in — getting the feeling you don’t want me to stop, sweetheart,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your neck, in contrast to the dirty squelch of your cunt and the slapping of your hips with his as he fucked you. 
It felt so good. 
Your fingers find purchase on his neck, fingers dragging through his white locks and undercut, drawing him impossibly closer, as his lips close over one of your nipples, licking and sucking as he thrusted into you. And he’s guiding your legs around his waist, and your legs pull him ever closer — ever deeper — as he groans against you. He presses sloppy wet kisses along your collarbone, his groan vibrating against your skin. 
“Look at that, pretty girl, taking me so well,” he’s grunting, as he looks at where you two meet, watching himself sink into you over and over, “g’nna make you only want this cock — no one else’s — all mine,” and you’re so close — your head buried in the nape of his neck, and he could hear every pant, moan, gasp right as it left your mouth, “such pretty noises — never made these noises for anyone else, have you, baby? Just f’me,” 
And you nod, eyes fluttering shut, “Close, s’close,” pleasure building, like a coil ready to snap, you can’t find the words — “I’m—“ 
“Cum on my cock, Princess,” his fingers press down against your clit, rubbing and that’s it, “let me make you feel good,” 
Your walls clamp down hard his dick twitching in your cunt, a low groan leaving his lips, as he fucked you through your orgasm, and his hips stutter against you, low moans leaving his lips. 
It felt so right. Pleasure washing over you as your toes curled, your eyes nearly rolling back, as you came. And he can’t stand it much longer — 
“Where—“ he groans, your slick cunt too much for him, your cum drenching him, “I’m close—“ 
“Inside, please, I—“ and he gives a shaky chuckle. 
“So greedy, baby — want my cum too?” He kisses you, long and soft as he moaned your name far too loud, his warm, thick load spilling inside you, as he fucked it inside, “look at that, filled you up so good,” as he finally stills inside of you, as he eases out, groaning as he watches your mixed release slip from inside you and trickle down his balls, “s’good, so perfect for me,” 
He grabs a towel to clean you up, gently cleaning your thighs, murmuring sweet nothings. Before he leans down to press a kiss to your reddened lips. 
“Are you okay?” He runs his fingers through your hair, and you nod, as you cup his cheek. 
“I’m perfect,” you sigh, as he curls up beside you, burying his face in the nape of your neck, “and you?” 
“What’s more than ‘perfect?’” And you snort, before he’s leaning over you, “what?” 
“You’re such a dork,” 
“But I’m your dork, your very rich dork, who loves to spoil you,” and you laugh, pulling him close. 
“Just mine,” and he’s kissing you again. 
“Just yours.” 
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And you find yourself at that same bar you did many moons ago. 
You nurse a soda, instead of a drink, because you didn’t care for the taste of alcohol. Habits die hard with the company you kept. You felt the gaze of several people on you, but none of them approached — and you didn’t mind one bit. 
“Mind if I sit here?” And you smile, stirring your soda with its straw, not bothering to look up at the sound of this very familiar voice. The same voice that had woken you up with several kisses to your neck this morning. 
“Not at all,” you reply, as you slide over his fruity drink — some concoction that is utterly too sweet — “you’re late,” 
Satoru sighs, swirling his drink in its glass. “Well, the business partners were particularly chatty. I think they knew we had dinner plans,” Satoru sips at his drink, pouting, as you comfort him with a chaste kiss to his cheek, “how’d the job interview go?” 
“I think they might give me the offer,” you smile, but you shrug, leaning against the surprisingly not sticky bar counter,  “I’m not too worried either way,” 
“I told you don’t have to work—“ 
“And I told you I want at least to work part-time to contribute something,” you remind him, as you lean close, fingers lacing with his with a squeeze, “don’t worry we will spend a lot of time together,” and he’s still pouting. 
“That’s not enough,” 
“Plenty?” And he relents, murmuring something about “that’s better,”, “where are we going for dinner anyway?” You raise an eyebrow, “such secrecy tonight,” 
“I have to keep you on your toes, sweetheart, can’t have you losing interest,” he smiles, as his fingers reach into his pocket, and you roll your eyes, unimpressed. 
“Never,” you roll your eyes, as he leans over and presses a kiss to his neck, and he’s finding your lips, fingers brushing your cheek, panting as he parts, “I know you’re trying to avoid the question.” 
And he only offers a grin, before he’s holding a ring before you, “take a guess,” 
You stare at it, blinking, your fingers covering your mouth, “Satoru—“ 
“I told you a long time ago here that I wanted to be the one to take care of you — and now I’m asking to take care of you forever,” and you can’t help but grin, “I’m sure we can reach another agreement — as long as you let me call you my wife,” 
And you’re already pulling him into your arms, lips sliding against his, as he melts into the kiss, “is that a yes?” 
You laugh, offering your hand, “put the ring on me,” and he does, sliding it onto your finger, smiling. 
“You won’t regret it,” and you kiss him again, pressing your forehead to his.  
“I know,” because saying yes to marrying Satoru Gojo was surely the smartest idea you’ve ever had.  
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✴︎ a/n: s/o to @laneysmusings for being the best beta reader, and i was truly possessed with the idea of having gojo take care of me and hearing mei mei say that he's "so rich" and he's like " well, she ain't lying." I also didn't listen to agora hills while writing this fic, but i used all the edits of gojo to that song as insp for the title and header lol.
✴︎ taglist: @deegausserr, @satoryaa, @orianakira, @tinnkerbell, @laylasbunbunny, @aztecmoonwarrior, @empresslazingway, @chosoilysm, @idktbhloley, @lorain07, @dreampiies, @nestafarren, @daydreamermarimo, @hydraafk, @theonetheycallbatman, @soccasium, @clearlandchild, @indigoghnights, @cha-raena, @strawberiicreme, @thegreatandpowerfulloreothecat, @jgh15hog, @onlyangeltae, @satocidal, @mrsmoriarty-holmes, @arrloww, @kyyyynziee
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uluvjay · 29 days ago
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4 for me, 4 for you-L. Norris
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Lando Norris x fem! Reader
In which Lando has reached his fourth career win and decides to show his partner how appreciative he is of her constant support throughout them all
Warnings?; SMUT, multiple orgasms, cursing, kissing, semi-public sex, car action, drinking/ mentions of alcohol, sorry if I missed any errors!
Lando pushed his way through bodies dressed in papaya his eyes searching all around for your familiar frame, people called his name left and right but he was determined to find you.
He had only saw you for a split second before he was rushed off towards the post race conference and it had been an hour since that.
Rushing up the stairs of the McLaren hospitality suite he made it to the door of his drivers room, pushing open the wood he found you sitting on the small couch.
He smiled the second your eyes met, catching your excited frame as you jumped from the couch and into his arms.
“I’m so fucking proud of you!” You cheered as you pressed kissed all over his face.
Lando giggled at your antics pressing your warm body closer to his as he caught your lips and licked them in a sweet kiss.
You smirked when you heard him grunt as your fingers tangled into his sweat and champagne coated hair.
Setting you down on your feet Lando pulled back, a bright smile on his face as he admired you for a moment.
“Thank you, not just for this year but for every year. I know they’ve been tough but you’ve stuck by my side through it all, when I got my first win I thought it was pure luck and now we’re constructor champions.” He spoke softly.
“I’ll always be here for you baby, I love you.” You smiled back pulling him in for a quick peck.
“I love you too.”
“Now get showered and changed big guy, it’s time to celebrate number four and that championship.” You cheered.
“Shit I didn’t even realize that was my fourth win.” He shook his head stepping away to strip off his race suit.
“Number four for number four.” You laughed reclaiming your seat on the couch.
Your words had Lando stopping in his tracks as a filthy idea ran through his mind, he took a look at you to find you immersed in your phone not noticing his still form.
You’d been there for every win and while there was proper celebratory sex after each one Lando felt with this one being his lucky number and such a big with securing the constructors you deserved a little something in return for always being his best support.
-
The first one came on the ride back to the hotel from the track, it was just the two of you in the back of the tinted and spacious Escalade with the divider up to separate you from the driver.
“C’mere baby” Lando patted the seat right next to his.
You smiled unbuckling your seatbelt and sliding closer so you were pressed against his side, Lando followed your actions by unbuckling his as well before pulling you on top of him.
“Lando wha-“ you gasped at the sudden movement.
“-shh, need you to be quiet for me okay?”
He smirked sinisterly as you nodded obediently watching as he bunched up your pretty sundress before bringing your core down to meet his denim covered thigh.
Your hand flew to cover your mouth at the feeling but it was quickly removed by lando who replaced it with his lips instead.
His tongue fought against yours before ultimately winning, he could feel the way your chest heaved against his.
Your breathing becoming more strained, muscles tense as Lando brought a large hand to the middle of your back-pressing you closer to him.
His other hand guided your hips over his thigh, he could feel the wet spot forming but he could care less.
Not when he had you desperately trying to hold back your cries of pleasure, the mix of rough denim and lace of your panties rubbing right against your clit had your orgasm rapidly approaching.
you humped his thigh desperately as everything was beginning to be to much from the heat of Landos lingering touch to the pleasure burning in your lower stomach.
“Shit” you panted in his neck biting down on the fabric of his expensive shirt to keep yourself quiet.
“Doing so good pretty girl.” He cooed his rough hand coming to stroke your hair encouragingly.
He could feel your cunt throbbing against his thigh, your orgasm no doubt close added a firm hand to your lower back once again helping you along as he felt your movements slowing.
“Shit, shit, shit-I’m cumming.” You whimpered into his throat.
Lando pulled your head back by your hair watching the breathtaking expression on your face as your orgasm ripped through you.
Your body shook against his as you did your best to keep going and ride out your high, teeth biting your lip so hard you could taste the blood seeping into your mouth.
“Fuck” you huffed as you finally came down from your high, lying flat against Lando’s chest.
He chuckled softly at your actions placing a soft kiss to your head he hugged you tight as he praised you.
“Did so good for me baby, always do so good.”
-
Two and three were in the club bathroom, you were both a few shots deep and when one of your favorite songs came on causing you to grind shamelessly against your boyfriend he couldn’t take it anymore.
Pulling you into the bathroom he shoved you into a stall, locking it he was quick to turn around and pin you to it.
He wasted no time pushing up your slutty little dress, you’d traded out your modest white sundress for a skintight black dress that had him going wild from the second he saw it.
He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t find any panties hidden underneath he had a feeling they wouldn’t be leaving your suitcase this evening.
Spreading your legs he watched in awe as your mouth dropped open in a silent moan as his fingers ran through your dripping folds.
“So wet and I’ve hardly touched you.” He scoffed.
While he was tipsy and still riding high on his win one thing about Lando and a few shots of his vodka and he was a shameless slut.
He would be smiling bright to anyone with a blind eye but he would be whispering some of the dirtiest things imaginable in your ear before taking you home to do them.
“Please lan.” You whimpered.
“Please what? What do you want from me baby?” He cooed mockingly as his fingers moved tediously slow everywhere but your clit.
“Your fingers, want you to fuck me with them-please.” You begged the Brit watching as flames lit behind his gorgeous eyes.
He wasted no time sliding two fingers inside you, watching as your eyes clenched shut and a hand shot down to grip his wrist, not expecting the sudden force.
“Fuck” you cried.
He smirked watching you take his fingers so well, he moved them in a come here motion as he added his thumb to rub slow circles over your swollen clit.
“So fucking pretty for me.” He groaned lips dragging across your exposed neck and chest, teeth nipping wherever he wanted.
You cried out as his free hand moved down to grip your thigh bringing it around his hip allowing his fingers to sink deeper and hit that sweet spot deep inside you.
“Feels so good.” You babbled.
“Yeah? Love when I fuck you with my fingers?” He taunted hazy eyes locked with yours.
“Mhm, yes-it feels so fucking good.” You cried head dropping back against the stall door as you felt that familiar feeling in your lower stomach for the second time tonight.
Lando groaned at the feeling of you clenching around his fingers wishing it was his cock but that was for later, right now was about making you come all over his fingers.
He sped up his movements shaking off your hand that tried to pushed his away as he continued through your high basking in the way you sobbed his name and how gorgeous you looked shaking with pleasure.
Lando watched as you caught your breath, eyes clenched shut as your body regained its place on earth and your legs settled down.
Opening your eyes you were met with Lando sucking greedly on his fingers, a deep groan escaping the man’s throat at the taste of you.
The sight itself had a whimper falling from you, the look your boyfriend shot you anything but innocent as he slowly sunk to his knees before you.
“Lando I don’t think I can go again so fast.” You panted.
While the scene below you was one you’d very rarely turn down your body was still reeling from the orgasm and alcohol in your system didn’t help.
“Just one more baby, need to taste you.” He purred his nose running along the inside of your thigh where some of your juices and cum had ran.
“O-okay” you nodded and that’s all the brunette needed before he was diving in.
He tossed one of your legs over his shoulder, his nose positioned perfectly against your clit as his tongue ran through your dripping folds.
The two of you had truly forgotten your surroundings until the bathroom door had opened the sound of people entering startling you but Lando could give two fucks.
His only worry was making you cum in his mouth, his tongue worked in overtime tracing his name and signature number ‘4’ over and over before he’d go back to slurping you like he was a dehydrated man.
Your fingers tangled in his hair sending vibrations through your body as he grunted into your cunt, a hand flying to your mount to keep yourself quiet as the feeling added to your building orgasm.
Thankfully the people didn’t stay long and you were able to let out a cry of pleasure as Lando pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
It didn’t take long for your orgasm to hit, your fingers that were tangled in Lando’s hair pulling him impossibly closer as your hips grounded against his face to chase your high.
“Lando!” You cried as your third orgasm ripped through your body.
However the man below you didn’t let up just yet, his tongue sped up as he drunk you in and moaned as the taste of you filled his mouth.
When you finally managed to push his head away he was panting and red, his nose, lips, and chin drenched in you.
You blushed at the sight and you cursed yourself for the way your cunt clenched as he traced a finger around his face to get as much of your juices that he could before sucking them off.
He smiled down at your panting form, reaching to fix your dress and hair he gave you a sweet kiss.
“You taste absolutely Devine.”
-
The fourth and final came when you two finally returned to the hotel room, stumbling drunkenly from the elevator into your suite that Hilton had provided Lando with this weekend.
Your lips never left one another until Lando pushed you onto the king size bed, fumbling with his belt buckle as his drunk mind did its best to operate and get it undone.
You giggled as you pulled your dress off waiting and watching Lando as he finally got his cock free from his jeans and boxers.
There was nothing sensual or intimate about this but neither of you cared, Lando climbing over your body wrapping your legs around his waist.
He took his time sliding his cock in slowly, even in his drunken state knowing you needed a second to adjust to his length.
Once you gave him the green light his thrusts were slow and sloppy but still felt so fucking good, the sensitivity from the orgasms in the bathroom was present but your drunken mind seemed to not care as you told Lando to speed up.
He did as you asked, arms caging you in below him as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear and placed kisses all around.
Your nails scratched down his back as the pleasure filled both of your bodies, shared moans filling the room as both of your orgasms were fast approaching.
“So fucking tight.” He grunted in your ear his thrusts picking up slightly as he chased his first orgasm of the long night.
You whimpered below him as his cock hit that sweet spot over and over never missing, the added pleasure of his warm lips against your skin and feeling him so close had your body in overdrive.
You two finally came together, sharing a mutual moan as he came deep inside of you, and you came all over his thick cock.
Neither of your tired bodies bothering to move from your spots as the early nerves of the day mixed with the evenings celebrations finally caught up to the both of you.
-
You groaned at the sunlight coming through the room attempting to roll over and away from the blinding light before being stopping by a heavy mass on top of you.
Blinking open your eyes you were confused to find Lando sound asleep on your boobs for a moment until last nights memories hit you hard.
You blushed as you remembered how the two of you ended up here and judging by the throbbing member between your legs a certain someone was having the same recollection.
“You awake?” You rasped.
“Sadly” he groaned.
“We need to shower, like immediately.” You said.
“I couldn’t agree more.” Lando nodded going to get up forgetting you two were still connected for a moment causing a high moan to come from you.
“Shit! Sorry, sorry.” He apologized sliding out slowly before disappearing to go get the shower started.
He came back a few minutes later naked, sliding his arms under you he picked you up placing a gentle kiss to your head before placing you in the shower, climbing in behind you.
You two washed each other up, cuddling close under the hot water as the hangovers began to hit hard.
“So..what was that last night.” You smirked up at him.
“What do you mean?”
“The four different orgasms?”
“Oh” he smirked.
“Well I had four wins and I felt like you deserved to have four of your own rewards as well.” He shrugged.
“You’re so stupid.” You laughed with a shake of your head.
“Oh please you loved it.” He scoffed.
And you truly couldn’t argue with that one.
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sonarspace · 3 months ago
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PARTY FEVER (FT. CHOSO)
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synopsis. feeling hot and sticky? good for you, one partygoer is eager to help! content. college au. dirty talk. kinda döm choso. ëxhibitionism. slight vøyeurism. mirror sẽx. semi–public. multiple ôrgasms. wc. 2.8k
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the party’s louder than you expected, the thumping bass shaking the walls, the air lingering with a mix of sweat and alcohol. you're wearing a dress that clings to your body in all the right places, short enough to show off your legs and low enough to turn a few heads. it was a last-minute choice, but you knew you'd end up running into him tonight—you could feel it.
and right on cue, you spot choso across the room, casually leaning against the wall, a red solo cup in hand. his dark eyes lock onto you instantly, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. it's like he's waiting for you, expecting you.
you try to play it cool, but the way his gaze tracks your every move sends a rush of heat through your body. he takes a slow sip of his drink, never breaking eye contact, and you can feel the tension simmering between you two, unspoken but electric. after what happened last week, you're not sure what to expect tonight, but the memory of how he had you bent over his desk still lingers—how he "thanked" you for helping him pass his test by fucking you so thoroughly, you couldn't walk straight the next day.
you bite your lip and turn to head toward the kitchen, but you barely make it two steps before a firm hand grips your wrist. “going somewhere?” his voice is smooth, low, and it sends a jolt through you. you glance back at him, trying to suppress the shiver creeping up your spine.
“didn’t think i’d see you here,” you mutter, trying to play it off, but the intensity in his stare has you faltering.
he leans in close, his lips brushing your ear. “thought i made it clear last time,” he murmurs, his voice dark and filled with something more than just desire. “one time wasn’t enough.”
your heart races. you shouldn’t want this again—shouldn’t want him again. but the way his fingers trail down your arm, the heat of his body pressing against yours, you know there’s no way you’re walking away.
“you sore?” he asks, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips. “could barely walk last time.”
you swallow, heat pooling low in your belly. “i’m fine,” you manage, though your body betrays you, already responding to his presence.
he chuckles, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly as he tugs you through the crowd. the music fades behind you as he leads you down the dim hallway, until he shoves you into the nearest bathroom. the door clicks shut, and before you can catch your breath, his lips are on yours, messy and hungry, the taste of him intoxicating as he swallows your soft gasp.
his tongue slides into your mouth, hot and insistent, tasting you as if he’s been craving you all week. you moan softly, fingers tangling in his hair as your back hits the cool surface of the sink, his hips grinding into yours. the heat between you is electric, and you can’t help the way your body arches into him, desperate for more.
“hold on,” he breathes, hoisting you up on the sink. your skimpy dress rides up, as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
he parts your legs, exposing your thighs as he kneels before you. he hooks his fingers under the hem, teasingly pulling it up further before slipping off your panties.
“purple, huh?” he chuckles, glancing at the fabric with a playful smile before tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans. “that’s for me.”
dropping to his knees, he dives in, kissing a trail up your inner thighs, his breath hot against your skin. “fuck,” you whimper, your head falling back as he flicks his tongue against your clit, teasing you with soft, delicate strokes.
as the warmth of his mouth wraps around your throbbing clit, you let out a loud moan, instinctively placing a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. your walls clench around his tongue, slick and eager, as if begging for more.
“it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, sending shivers down your spine. “let them hear how good you feel.” he tugs your hands down, placing his own atop them, pinning them against the counter.
he buries his tongue deeper, the pressure building inside you, coaxing out those desperate little cries you can’t hold back. your heart races, every flick of his tongue sending electric jolts through your body. you can’t help but moan louder, arching into him as you’re chasing that high.
the sweet sounds tumbling from your lips bounce off the bathroom walls, raw and unfiltered. “you taste so fucking good,” he mutters, diving his tongue back into your snug walls, savoring every inch of you. he could live off your taste forever, but right now, he craves more than just that—he wants to be deep inside you. so, he pulls away reluctantly.
standing tall, he flips you around, and you grip the counter, your legs still shaking from his earlier ministrations. he wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you as he leans in, pressing soft kisses along your neck and under your jaw. his hands tangle in your hair, tugging gently as he pushes his pants down, revealing the outline of his boxers he grinds his growing hardness against you, a low hum escaping his lips. “see what you do to me?” he breathes watching you in the mirror, his tongue teasing the shell of your ear.
when you reach back, your fingers brushing against him, he lets out a deep groan that sends a thrill through you. your eyes meet in the mirror, and he gives you a sweet, playful smile, his pearly whites glinting in the light as he bites down softly on your neck, leaving his mark. you narrow your eyes at him in mock frustration, but the way your heart races betrays you.
“can you fuck me already?” you whine pressing your ass into his hips, your voice dripping with need. he chuckles lowly. “so fuckin’ needy,” he whispers, biting your shoulder with just enough pressure to make you shiver. he pulls down his boxers, freeing his cock—gorgeous and thick, flushed pink, just like the color of his lips. he catches you staring and smirks, leaning in closer. “not today,” he whispers with a teasing grin.
bringing his hand up to your mouth, he commands you to spit, and you oblige, letting your saliva pool in his palm. your watching him in the mirror and your eyes drop to where he pumps himself a couple of times, his cock now slick with a mix of your saliva and his precum. a low whine escapes him as he grips your ass, squeezing it firmly. “god, it fits so perfectly in my hand,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.
he nudges your back down slightly, pushing a leg between yours, coaxing you wider apart. he aligns himself with your slick, eager cunt, hissing at the contact as he pushes inside in one smooth thrust. a loud moan escapes your lips at the stretch. “HOLY FUCK!” you cry out, the sound echoing in the small space as he gives you a moment to adjust. but it’s not long before he pulls out slowly, then slams back in, your hips colliding with the counter. you were sure you’d end up with a bruise but you couldn’t really care in the moment.
he wraps an arm around your throat, holding you close, and you can feel him deep inside you, your warm, gummy walls squeezing him tightly. your breaths come out in desperate gasps as he starts off slow, letting you adjust to the way he is stretching you open. however, he picks up the pace, each thrust becoming more frantic, more desperate. “look how well you take me,” he growls. your eyes drop to your reflection, your lips parted as you watch him drive in and out of you.
the mirror fogs up with the heat radiating from your bodies, breaths mingling as you gasp for air. maddened moans tumble from your lips, raw and unfiltered, each one echoing off the tiled walls as he thrusts into you deep and hard. you’re utterly lost in the pleasure, feeling yourself stretching around him, your walls clenching and squeezing him just right.
“fuuuuck,” he grunts, his voice low and husky, and the way he grips your hips makes you tremble. his fingers dig into your flesh, pulling you back agaisnt him, every thrust igniting a fire inside you that you can’t quench. “look at you, so fucking perfect for me,” he growls, his breath hot against your neck as he nips at your skin.
you can barely think, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the small space. your heart races as you feel the familiar coil tightening deep in your belly. with every thrust, your body meets his, the sweet friction making you dizzy.
the door creaks open, and your heart races as geto stops in his tracks, shock painted across his face. it’s a split second of panic, but the way choso keeps driving into you, deep and relentless, makes it hard to care. you bite your lip, stifling a moan, but it slips out anyway, echoing against the tiled walls.
he glances over his shoulder, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “show him just how good I make you feel,” he urges.
the thrill of being exposed only adds fuel to the fire, and you feel your body responding in ways that make you gasp. “choso—” you gasp, as he drives into you, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge.
“good girl,” he praises, his voice low and sultry. “scream for me.”
“oh god,” you gasp, your walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper.
“can you believe this?” he chuckles, glancing back at his roommate briefly. “she loves it,” he growls, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that makes you cry out, your nails digging into the counter for support as waves of pleasure crash over you.
“please,” you manage to whimper, your voice thick with desperation and need. “don’t stop.”
he locks eyes with you in the mirror, the heat of his gaze almost makes you cum. he pulls you closer, forcing you to feel every inch of him. “get out,” he tells geto, his voice low and commanding, without glancing back. his focus is entirely on you, on the way you’re gripping his hand on your stomach, your body quivering with desire.
geto hesitates for just a moment longer, his eyes darting between you two before he finally steps back, the door swinging closed behind him.
“you just got wetter with him watching us, didn’t you?” choso purrs, his voice filled with sinful mischief. “want me to invite him back in here and watch us all night? want him to see just how your greedy cunt grips my cock?”
his words send a shiver down your spine, your pulse racing. “you like that thought, huh?” he teases, leaning in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear. “knowing anyone could walk in and see how good you feel? how desperate you are for me?”
your head spins as the idea and all you can do is nod, overwhelmed by the sensations your head spins as the idea fuels the fire inside you, making your walls clamp down on him even tighter. your breath hitches, heart pounding as your body surrenders completely. all you can do is nod, overwhelmed by the sensations he’s pulling from you. “yes, god, yes.”
“good,” he growls, his voice thick with desire as he picks up the pace, each thrust harder, deeper, your body melting into him. “then let’s give them a show. scream my name when you come.”
the sound of your skin slapping grows louder fills the room, mixing with your desperate moans and the heavy, heated breaths you both share. he drives into you with a relentless rhythm, deeper and faster, pushing you right to the brink.
you can feel yourself unraveling, that familiar tension building higher and higher with each powerful stroke. “choso,” you cry out, your body arching back against him as the pleasure overwhelms you. his one hand moves to your chin tipping your head back so he can lean down and press a messy kiss to your lips. his grip tightens on your hips, holding you in place as you cum around him, your walls squeezing him as you scream his name, just like he wanted.
choso doesn’t stop, though—his pace is unforgiving, his thrusts sharp and deliberate, milking every ounce of your climax. your sensitive body begs for mercy, but at the same time, craves more.
“look at you, falling apart on my cock,” he groans, his breath ragged as he watches your trembling form, mesmerized by how perfectly you take him. “so fucking beautiful when you’re like this. can’t get enough of you.”
your legs quiver, barely able to support yourself as his hands tighten on your waist, keeping you anchored against him his hands snake around your front, one of them sliding down to circle your swollen clit, making your body jolt with the sharp, overwhelming pleasure.
“fuck, that’s it. just like that,” he groans, the sound of his voice rough and strained as your body trembles against him. you’re practically shaking, overwhelmed by how his touch burns into you, his fingers circling your clit with maddening precision. his thrusts become messier, more desperate, and you can feel his need growing by the second. every stroke seems to push him closer to the edge, just as it does you.
the pressure in your core builds again, unbearably fast, and you know you won’t last much longer. choso’s low grunts mix with your whimpers, the obscene sound of his cock sliding in and out of you filling the air. his fingers dig into your skin with every thrust, anchoring you to him as you both spiral out of control.
"choso—" you whimper, the plea spilling from your lips as your vision blurs with the force of your pleasure, your head spinning.
his hips snap forward harshly, each thrust hitting deeper, rougher, and you feel the tension coil impossibly tight inside you. “i can feel you, baby,” he growls, the term of endearment making your heart flutter. “cum for me again. let me feel you, baby.”
and that’s all it takes. your body tightens around him, the rush of your orgasm slamming into you with brutal force. you cry out, his name tumbling from your lips like a broken mantra as you come. your walls flutter and clench around his cock, milking him as he keeps moving, every thrust driving you further into bliss.
choso lets out a choked groan, his pace growing erratic as your cunt squeezes him so perfectly that he can barely hold on. his fingers move faster on your clit, drawing out your release, pushing you past the point of no return.
“so tight, so fucking tight,” he groans, his own release just within reach as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, black bangs sticking to his forehead, your body trembling and writhing beneath his touch.
with a few more sharp thrusts, choso finally cums. he pulls out quickly, groaning loudly as his white seed spills onto the flesh of your ass, painting your skin in hot, slick ribbons.
for a few long moments, the only sound is your heavy, ragged breathing as you both come down from the euphoria. he presses his forehead to your shoulder, his warm breath ghosting over your skin, and you can feel the slight tremor in his hands as he finally stills inside you.
“you’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice tender, as he kisses the back of your neck gently. but then, a playful smirk spreads across his face, and he leans back slightly, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.
“now,” he whispers teasingly, “we do it without all these clothes and interruptions.” he effortlessly scoops you up over his shoulder, a playful squeal escaping your lips as you bury your face into his neck. he steps out into the hallway, the crowd of people glancing at you both, and you can’t help but hide your face deeper into his warm skin as his heat rises to your cheeks.
he chuckles in return, the sound deep and rich, echoing against your ear. “don’t be shy now,” he teases.
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an. kinda demotivated but i hope this is still readable and enjoyable! this may or may not be a prequel to another fic on the kinktober masterlist 🤭. more kinktober fics -> here! ⸝⸝ reblogs, likes & comments are appreciated
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sunasbon · 10 months ago
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CHEER FEVER !
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SYNOPSIS! : nerd gojo and his pretty cheerleader girlfriend!
WC:(4k)+ warnings : college au, shy nerd gojo, cheerleader reader!, semi public,nicknames, pussy eating (sweetheart, baby),jealous gojo that’s all for now!
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satrou wasn’t the jealous type of person in general, truth be told he couldn't help but feel that way when his pretty little girlfriend is a cheerleader catching the eye of a particular jock on the field while you were warming up with the rest of team, in your old fashioned—uniform with you pom pom before tonight’s game started with the rest of your teammates.
“satrou you okay, you’ve seem kind of out of it a little?” you pouting on him, crossing your arms over chest a little uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach, you knew him better than anyone even himself.
the question caused satrou to raise an eyebrow in curiosity, though he only gave a nonchalant shrug in response, "hm? oh, yeah, i’m fine i guess." satrou tried his best to hide his jealousy, though he failed utterly as his girl had seen right through him.
“you sure? I can walk you too class, while i finished up practice for the game.”
the offer from his you seemed to put satrou on ease, as his eyebrows no longer wrinkled and his frown turned into a small smile, "that would be nice of you." satrou replied, not really sure of what else to say. it's not like he can just outright admit that he's jealous, that would be just downright pathetic.
“of course I’ll see you after practice then” you waved him off, going back to the track with her cheerleading teammates.
satrou waved goodbye towards his you, watching you run back towards your teammates and practice without any further incident. her bubbly personality seemed to always brighten up his day, even when he was feeling a little down. it's almost as if everything went right with her around.
he watched the football team take a break, taking a moment to scan the crowd and observe everything going on around him. he let his eyes wander around the stadium, only to eventually settle on to—a familiar sight from your school. toji was, without a doubt, one of the best quarterback players on his team, and satrou had heard many praises his skill and talent over the years. his athletic ability and dedication were something to be envious of.
his star quarterback status was nothing to sneeze at either, making him a very desired figure among the female students at their school. satrou would hear stories about how the girls would fawn over him every time he stepped on the field.
toji's handsome gaze met yours, his green eyes locking in on yours and not relenting. he smirked at you in a teasing way, his confidence and charisma oozing from his pores as he walked over to you. he had a cocky and flirtatious look on his face, which only seemed to highlight his attractiveness.
as toji stepped off the field, he looked around toward where the cheerleaders were practicing. his eyes quickly met with yours, and he gave you a subtle wave, smiling in your direction. it seemed like the entire field and bleachers turned their heads to him now, as most of their eyes were glued on toji, staring intently, making it easy to see how attractive of a figure he was.
he was annoyed at the whole situation, his anger growing with each word that exchanged between you two. "who does the jock think he is? he thinks he can just walk up to you and expect you to just fall head over heels for him? he's lucky i'm not beating his ass right now."
toji's appearance certainly didn't help with your frustration surrounding him—he was handsome, beefy, and confident enough to walk up to you without even a care in the world. he had the entire stadium in a trance. the cheerleaders all fawned over him as he made his way toward you.
some girls even shouted his name to get his attention, hoping they'd be the lucky ones to be blessed by him. satrou watched the entire scene play out, finding himself growing increasingly irritated with toji's existence—biting the inside of his cheek.
not having much better to do with the half-time break, you decide to walk into the locker room to pick up something from your locker, taking the few free minutes you had to get some things in order before the game resumes. you weren't aware of just how long you spent in your locker when you suddenly felt a familiar presence approaching from behind you.
you were so involved in getting your stuff in order, you didn't notice toji. the arrogant-quarterback from the school's football team approaching from behind you. he leaned in towards you and let out a subtle chuckle, leaning his arm against the locker behind you and placing his body close to yours.
toji's smirk grew wider when he noticed the annoyed tone in your voice, his eyes shining with amusement as he stepped a little closer to you, putting him in your personal bubble. "do I really need to say?" toji replied, not taking his eyes off of you for a single moment—trying to woo you with his small talk wanting to get into your pants, plus you knew it really and wouldn’t give him that attention.
"I'm not dating you, forget it."you weren't amused by his actions at all, and instead, you were irritated and disgusted by his flirtatious antics.
the words that came from your lips made his smirk fade away in an instant, you putting him in his place had caught him by surprise. a small frown appeared on his lips as he stepped back from you, his hands coming out of his pockets, "I get that you're already dating someone, but that doesn't mean you can't have a little fun once and awhile, right?" he asked, a cocky smile returning to his lips.
honestly did he really think you were going fall for his charms and popularity status? what a joke.
the mention of satrou name had toji's eyebrow shooting up in surprise, though he didn't look very impressed by the information. he couldn't understand why a beautiful girl like you would lower yourself enough to date a nerd, especially when the jock sitting in front of you is offering himself to you like that. toji narrowed his eyes at you. "are you kidding me? you seriously prefer dorks over jocks?"
"yeah? why are you surprised at that?" you scoffed at his remarks clearly not impressed by his performance to try and seduce you, it was pointless almost.
toji's cocky smirk faded away once more at the blunt answer that came from your lips, your lack of embarrassment and straightforward tone made it clear that you were not flirting with him whatsoever, he was just wasting his time. "oh is that so? cause i highly doubt it." he said sarcastically, taking a step closer to you, once again, invading your personal bubble.
you don’t respond only giving him a blank look.
even though you had made your rejections perfectly clear, toji was stubborn, refusing to accept that the beautiful girl in front of him was not into him. he stepped even closer to you as you attempted to walk away, now placing his frame in front of you. "oh come on darling, i know you like me. i can tell by how much you seem to look my way all the time."
“trust me, i don’t.”
the sound of the pa system announcing that the game would start back up in a few minutes filled the stadium and the players with energy. you didn’t hesitate to follow the cheer leaders back towards the field, not letting toji get into your head and ruin your spirits.
however, toji wouldn’t give up so easily, as he quickly followed close behind you and tried to engage in conversation with you again.
despite his flirting antics, you chose to brush it off and ignore him. you've had enough of his ego and his attitude, and all you wanted to focus on was your team winning tonight. you continued walking, trying to block out his voice and the way he kept on trying to be close to you.
after a few minutes, you made it to the field where the cheer leaders were all practicing their performances for the game.
you felt your annoyance and anger build up as toji once again tried to engage in conversation with you. he was persistent and annoying, and he wouldn't take a hint no matter how many times you brushed him off. it was truly the most irritating thing you've experienced today?
was he really that desperate?
the sound of the pa system announcing that the game would start back up in a few minutes filled the stadium and the players with energy. you didn’t hesitate to follow the cheer leaders back towards the field, not letting toji get into your head and ruin your spirits.
however, toji wouldn’t give up so easily, as he quickly followed close behind you and tried to engage in conversation with you again.
satrou narrowed his eyes towards your direction, upon seeing that toji was still trying to engage in conversation with you—even after he was repeatedly told to go away—was enough to set him off.
he pulled you into a tight embrace, not letting toji get a word in edge-wise. however, this was only followed up by an uproar of gossip among the students, who began to crowd around you, toji, and satrou, creating some sort of chaotic scene.
the sound of their whispers filled the atmosphere, and the attention of the students shifted away from the game and towards the three of you in the middle.
the crowd continued to grow bigger and louder as the students started speaking among themselves, all wanting a glimpse at what was happening. toji, satrou, and you were now the main attractions, and the whispers quickly turned to gossip and rumors.
with the situation now growing out of hand, you could hear a few of the students snickering and laughing at the scene, making snarky remarks about all of you. people from all over the stadium gathered around to watch the scene unfold. it became almost impossible to hear anything over the sounds of the growing chatter coming from the crowd.
satrou was standing next to you, a fiery glint in his eyes as he glared at toji, not backing down from the situation.
a few whispers started spreading among the crowd when it became clear that satrou was confronting toji and was about to start a fight. some people in the crowd got up from their seats, hoping to see the action as it unfolded. some students started chanting "fight!" as they eagerly awaited the two to start brawling.
satrou blue eyes narrowed at toji, his tone becoming deadly and sharp as he responded with a few words. "so are you going to keep flirting with her like a pathetic dog or do you want your teeth knocked in?" satru kept his attention on toji, his grip on you becoming tighter with each word he spoke.
you saw satrou’s eyes flicker a dull red for a moment and a wave of heat radiating from his body. he had been angered by toji's insult enough to want to punch him in his face, but he couldn't lose track of what was important here.
he wanted to punch the jock into the ground for his comment and the way he would never leave you alone.
toji spoke up in response to satrou remarks, his demeanor and tone becoming more frustrated as he spoke. "as if a twinkie like satrou could actually punch me, I'm surprised he hasn't taken her out on a date yet." toji's cocky grin returned to his face once again, his expression becoming even more snarky.
this was getting out of hand fast.
satrou continued to trade insults towards toji, his anger and temper escalating even more as he spoke. "you're an idiot if you think you can be so pathetic as to walk up to another's man's girl and flirt with her right in front of them." the crowd around you grew louder and louder, many people cheering for satrou while they watched the two argue.
toji’s smug smile only grew wider as he responded, his words becoming more sarcastic and arrogant. "look, twinkie, i'm just doing what any other jock would do. you should be thankful that i let you have her for so long." the crowd of students grew even louder at toji's comment as he continued to smirk smugly at him, trying to get under his skin even more with his words.
gojo clenched his fist practically turning white from his comments even hearing toji's smug remark, and his patience was running thin at this point. he finally lost it. gojo suddenly swung his fist like lightning as it connected straight to toji's jaw with a loud smack. it was enough to make toji's whole head whip back, his eyes widening in shock as gojo fist landed right on his cheek.
"you'll be sorry for hitting me, twinkle," toji sneered, a smirk still plastered on his face despite the bruise now forming where satrou had punched him.
the crowd was still in an uproar, many of them cheering for satrou while others were trying to instigate another fight. the guard still held satoru and toji at different sides of the building, making sure they couldn't get their hands on one another any longer.
you followed satrou as he was being escorted to the other side of the building. you didn't want to even look towards toji at this point, as you were annoyed with his incessant flirting and harassment directed at you.
satoru was still hot-headed and angry after their altercation, as he kept muttering curses and insults under his breath when he wasn't addressing the guard. he seemed like he was having a hard time keeping his temper in check.
you saw satoru finally letting himself relax. sitting down on the bench next to you and taking your hand in his. his expression softened, and his body language relaxed as he slowly let go of his tension. he was relieved that it was over and that no one had gotten hurt in this whole ordeal.
satrou’s grip on your hand was tight and comforting—feeling the tension still lingering from the encounter that’s was moments ago. he looked over at you with a relieved expression, and his mind was focused on having you by his side and calming his nerves.
you're taken aback as satrou grabs your arm and pulls you away to the vacant locker room, where you two had some privacy. he wrapped his your arm was tight and firm, but not in a rough manner as he dragged you along.
once you were inside the locker room, satrou closed the door behind him and pulled you close to him in a intimate manner.
he slender arms looped around you, his breath becoming a little heavier as he pulled you closer. he didn't need to say anything else to tell you that he wanted you right now, his whole aura was telling you that.
your bodies were pressed up against each other, and his lips were hovering dangerously close to yours—nothing more than to let out that pent up energy that’s lingering inside of himself.
“can’t believe that asshole.” satoru mumbled against your lips, kissing the inner curves of your mouth. his slender hands roamed over your body squeezing your waist pulling you closer to his board chest fitting together—two puzzle pieces together as one.
‘your nerd of a boyfriend can’t satisfy you’ tsk let me prove him wrong? hm baby?” he states in a mocking tone a small smirk plastered on his lips, knowing his words were a complete joke to him. satrou knew you inside and out and knew the right ways to make you cum wether it be from his fingers alone or his tongue every time, never fails to make you fold underneath him—like pure putty in his hands.
your body felt warm and euphoric as satrou's lips moved along the corner of your mouth, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. your breath grew shorter and shorter with each kiss to your neck and each inch closer to your lips. his tender kisses felt like a sweet and gentle massage, making your body tingle with euphoria.
your whimpers were like music to his ears, filling him with an intense urge to take whatever he wanted. he was fully intent on taking complete ownership of your body with his touch.
“toru…come on the game starts back in a few—”
“the game can wait, but I can’t.”
shortly, your back is pressing against the cold tilted of the locker rooms as satrou wet kisses the nap of your neck trailing down turning into more sloppy ones leaving a trail, you desperately tried to close your thighs together feeling your growing auroral through the fabric of your sparkling bedazzled outfit—feeling a hint of warmth coursing through your body.
satoru smile faded slightly noticing your shift of movement tilted to the side—mumbling against your tummy stopping completely for a moment.
“what’s the matter baby? hm? don’t you want me to eat your pretty pussy?” he teased at the last words playfully, his cheek still nuzzled into your softness of your tummy, feeling the warmth of his slender fingers gently squeezing and resting lazily on your sides.
“i-i do..” you stammer out desperately trying to keep your thigh closed together trying to hide the wet spot in the fabric of your cotton panties, it was stupid to even try to hide it you knew it. only desperately wanting him as bad as he wanted you.
“hm? didn’t catch that baby. you want to speak up for me?” he taunted that cheesy smile of his plastered on his face knowing your embarrassed about couldn’t help but to tease you a little bit more, his slender fingers lifting your skirt bunched up the fabric pulled itself up slowly.
“toru..i-i……need you please” you confessed softly warmth spreading through your body once more, causing satoru smirk to deepen at your words trailing his sloppy kisses down to stomach tracing along the waistband giving it a gentle tug as it loosens falls down your thighs to the floor.
“that’s my girl.” satoru cooes, swiping his calloused thumb across your sensitive nub. his gaze lands on your cunt, nuzzling in between your soft thighs hearing his breath hitched. satoru thick lengthy fingers toyed with your clit, pinching the sensitive nerve causing you to jolt against him.
“toru…c’mon..”
“so impatient baby hm. gettin’ wet f’ me barely even touch you.”
satoru mumbles, tugging and toying at your clit. his glossy lips glinting in the dim light teasing you into utter bliss causing you to writhe around at the stimulation.
your hands tugged at loose white strands of hair causing him to groan against your thighs, his tongue alternating between swirling around your clit and sucking on the sensitive nud—feeling the heaven through arching your back perfectly. not caring whom heard you throughout the walls of the locker room.
“satoru..!..ngh..please..”
“fuck…baby y’er close already? bet that jock can’t eat you out like this huh…”
your moans mingled together throughout the room bouncing off the walls, as satrou continued to tease your cunt with his tongue eating you out as if your were his last meal on earth his face stuffed with your cunt.
“answer the question baby.”
“n-no…toru….mph!fuckfuck..”
you writhing around against his face tightening your hands on his hair throwing your head, if it wasn’t for holding your thighs over his shoulders keeping you steady—knowing your legs would’ve given out on a instant.
satoru’s hands held your thighs open for him, the flat of his tongue slurped up your slick probing deeper inside of cunt you could only buck your hips against his face, trying to gain more stimulation from him but he had other plans.
only to, suddenly removing himself nuzzled between your thighs covered in your ecstasy and salvia dripping down his chin, with that same teasingly smirk lingering causing you to whine and scrunch your brows together in frustration. you didn’t honestly think you were going cum so easily with a teasing bastard like him huh?
“satoru…w-why..did you stop??” your breathing was still heavy and your skin glowed in the dim lighting of the locker room. sweat started to bead up on your forehead, and you still felt a hazy from the stimulation. you were grew rather frustrated and wanting to reach your orgasm to have it decided by your lover.
“sorry babe, but the game starts back in a few minutes.” he hums but you could practically hear the tease in his voice, placing you on your feet. you mumbling a few curses underneath your breath huffing, feeling you stumble forward you catch yourself.
satoru smiles back with a cheeky and teasing smirk as he watches your annoyed expression when he pulls away. he then unlocks the door, giving you no chance to respond or continue any further action, even though you were very tempted to do so. he laughs and winks at you before stepping out of the locker room, leaving you all by yourself inside.
you straighten out your uniform and make sure your appearance was looking proper before stepping out of the locker room. you didn't see satru anywhere, but you assumed he was already at the game. he did say that the game was starting in just a few minutes, and he was always one to be right on time. you made your way towards the game, looking for satrou amongst the other students who had already taken their seats.
you began to get concerned about satrou’s sudden disappearance, worried that he might be in trouble. he had gone missing without a trace after you two left the locker room, and his whereabouts were completely unknown at this point.
you searched all the crowd of students, searching for any sign of satrou but came up with nothing. you began to get increasingly worried with each passing moment, wondering where he could have gone so suddenly without a word?.
just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse than this. where the hell did he go?
oh great.
a wave of concern washed over you as satrou still hadn't shown himself by the quarter of the game, which only caused worries of where he could have gone to creep up on you. you were worried and stressed, not knowing if he were hurt and unable to show himself, or somewhere else. your annoyance grew with each passing second, until you suddenly heard toji's voice behind you.
"looking for someone?" toji asked, looking at you with a smug grin on his face. his friends all stood close to him, smirking as they looked at you. one of them even had the nerve to let out a chuckle, clearly enjoying how annoyed you were at the moment. it’s as if they were mocking your concern for satrou—was nowhere to be seen still. “I wouldn’t worry much about him, the nerd show sooner or later. or not.”
“what—why?”
“you ask way too many questions, relax. we have a game to finish. see you out there sweetheart”
you started at them confused, wanting to run after them to question them more but it was too late they were already heading to the field—but you should’ve expected them not take this matter seriously.
you only hoped gojo was okay somewhere.
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@screampied @hoshigray @shaguro
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chrollogy · 7 months ago
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18+ MDNI; smut, kiyoomi gets all worked up after you kiss him over his face mask, brief heavy make out session <3, unprotected sex, creampie, prone bone :), brief mentions of biting (reader receiving), kinda poor writing i think (wrote this while i’m sick lol). divider: cafekitsune.
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── it was subtle but you noticed the slight shift in kiyoomi’s aura; the way his pale veiny hand gripped the steering wheel, the taut muscle in his jaw, the small crease between his brows—not to mention the thick atmosphere inside the vehicle, a low hum filling the void of silence.
he had just finished a rather tedious practice session with the team, and thought that your presence was heaven sent. that was until you decided to be a tease.
you recounted a few minutes ago where you had teased kiyoomi with a kiss over the ivory face mask that sat snug over his nose, and lips. normally, you would’ve gently pulled the mask down to plant a chaste kiss but you had a different idea—one that kiyoomi didn’t particularly like.
one that had him slightly parting his lips beneath the mask, and subtly leaning in to chase your own as you pulled away—an innocent gleam in your eyes.
your heart thrummed against your chest as kiyoomi wordlessly keyed the lock of your shared apartment. he stood tall against the door, shoulders rolling back as he walked in, a slight awkwardness in his step.
you weren’t stupid. you saw the way his semi hard on outlined the MSBY track-pants he wore while driving home but you didn’t dare try bring it up. it stared at you, eyes wandering over to kiyoomi’s lap countless of times within the span of the drive back.
“you okay, omi?”
he held the door for you as you stepped inside. the question lingered in the air for a while. the door closed, sound reverberating throughout the walls of your shared apartment.
then, kiyoomi turned to face you, tall form looming over yours as he looked at you with his onyx gaze—the afternoon sun casting a warm glow on the side of his handsome face.
“kiss me.” blunt as always. his voice was velvety, sending icy shivers down your spine.
you didn’t have to be told twice. pushing yourself up using the balls of your feet, your digit gently slid the ivory mask down, tucking it under his chin before sealing the distance between your lips.
kiyoomi didn’t hesitate to prod his tongue into your mouth the second both your lips made contact, a low groan rumbling from his chest as you eagerly lapped at his tongue. despite his nonchalance, kisses with kiyoomi were rarely chaste—they were passionate, full of heat, and heavily involved his sinful tongue whether you liked it or not.
it always felt like a carnal beast inside him had awoken. safe to say, kiyoomi’s kisses never failed to leave you a little dizzy from the lack of oxygen but you weren’t complaining.
before you knew it, his desperation turned into greed, and the messy trail of discarded articles of clothing leading to the shared bedroom was proof of that.
your naked body lay atop the ivory sheets, front resting against the mattress. kiyoomi positioned himself over your thighs, each leg on either side of them as he slapped the fat of your ass with his heavy cock—his free hand resting on your hip, angling it upwards.
he gave your nape an open-mouthed kiss, bed slightly creaking beneath the shift of his weight before slowly inching his raw cock into your sopping entrance. a unison of contented sighs fell from both your lips as the tip of kiyoomi’s cock parted your velvety walls, eagerly sucking him in with every inch.
“so eager for me.” a shaky whisper from the man above you, clearly hanging onto every last bit of his sanity at the feel of your tight, warm cunt.
you could only whine in response, fingers digging into the plushness below. kiyoomi interlaced his fingers with your own, his palm flush against the back of your hands as he bottomed out—onyx eyes briefly rolling to the back of his head at the blissful sensation.
the very reason why you and kiyoomi had a shared love for the position was because of how fucking deep he went that it was almost sinful.
if only you could see how pretty kiyoomi looked, face angled towards the ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as pleasure engulfed every fibre of his being. it also didn’t help how your cunt squeezed around him ever so slightly as each second passed.
with a subtle wiggle of your hips, kiyoomi pressed his weight forward—knocking some air out of you—bare chest flush against your naked back before pulling his hips back, and hastily snapping it into your ass. this earned a muffled whine from you, face flat on the mattress as the feeling of ecstasy coursed throughout your body.
kiyoomi’s hands tightened against your own before setting a swift rhythm of his hips that had your eyes rolling back, and tears of pleasure quickly forming.
strings of heavy pants, and muffled whines slowly filled the damp atmosphere of your shared bedroom—sounds of merciless skin slapping, and sinful, wet squelches were like music to your ears.
“o-omi! s’ deep. oh my god.” you let out a stifled gasp, earning a low grunt from your boyfriend.
kiyoomi’s hot breath fanned against the sweaty skin of your nape, a gentle tickle with every pleasure driven pant that escaped his lips. god, he could be buried inside you forever and he wouldn’t even complain a single bit.
the tip of his cock repeatedly kissed your g-spot with each relentless thrust of his hips, inching you closer to your impending orgasm. kiyoomi knew this too, with the way your sentences turned incoherent, your whines becoming airy, and cunt squeezing the shit out of him but not once did his hips falter—despite the tight fit.
kiyoomi could feel your bare body turning taut under his own, stiffening as the knot in your stomach grew tighter, and tighter.
“cum with me.” he panted against your ear, teeth grazing against the skin before gently biting down on it.
that was all you needed.
with one long whine of his name, the knot deep in your stomach snapped, shocks of pleasure kissing all over your sensitive body as you creamed around kiyoomi’s cock. the colour of your knuckles mirrored the ivory sheets beneath as your fingers curled around them, gripping them for your dear life as your boyfriend rode out your orgasm.
kiyoomi let out a strangled moan of your name before biting down on your shoulder, hard. he sheathed his cock all the way inside, base flush against your ass as ropes of hot, thick cum painted your velvety walls. kiyoomi pressed his hips further into you before fucking his cum deeper, earning a gargled whine from you.
he soothed the sensitive skin he bit earlier by tonguing at it, and placing chaste kisses,
“tease me again like that, and this is what happens.” kiyoomi panted, resting his sweaty forehead on your shoulder blade. you mustered a soulless chuckle,
“i don’t mind that at all.”
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dazevi · 2 days ago
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outta my mind | vi x fem!reader, fluff, smut (18+ MDNI) wc: 20k
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synopsis: you didn’t plan on falling for anyone, let alone the painfully attractive bartender at the underground bar your friends dragged you to. she’s trouble, but she’s the kind you don’t mind getting into. | masterlist
content warnings: bartender!vi x fem!reader — modern au, bartender!vi, college student!reader, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn ish, drinking/alcohol, flirting, mutual pining, pet names; baby, princess, sweetheart, smut!!!; top!vi, bottom!reader, semi-public sex, making out, marking/hickeys, fingering (r receiving), pls let me know if i’m missing anything else!
note: lovely request by @balinor93 ! fanart by wickestd on twitter! ( title inspo from song called outta my mind by monsune )
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YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE HERE.
It was an underground pub, called the Last Drop, tucked between an alley of a street near your campus. The air inside is heavy, thick with a haze of cigarette smoke and the low hum of chatter and laughter. The brick walls are decorated with bright paintings and band posters, chipped and scratched in places, and adorned with flickering neon signs advertising cheap liquor and beers on tap. It’s dimly lit, with most of the light spilling from the bar itself—a warm glow reflecting off rows of liquor bottles stacked neatly against the back wall. The scent of stale beer and faint traces of spilled whiskey linger in the air, mingling with the beat of a bass-heavy track pulsing through the speakers.
You didn’t really plan to be here tonight.
In fact, you pictured something far less chaotic—maybe sitting cross-legged on your tiny dorm bed, your laptop open to half-hearted notes, headphones in to drown out the incessant noise of your hallmates partying down the corridor.
Finals week was looming, but somehow you found yourself here instead, caught up by a friend you weren’t too close with, Maddie, who told you to wear something cute and live a little.
You glance down at yourself, suddenly self-conscious in the outfit you hastily threw together—something a little nicer than your usual, a pretty black dress you found in your closet a jacket to battle the cold, though, it was not nearly as flashy as what your classmates seem to have pulled off effortlessly.
The slight chill in the room makes you tug at the sleeves of your jacket as you follow your group further inside, weaving through the crowd that seems to grow louder and rowdier by the minute.
Your friend is already laughing, tossing her short hair over her shoulder as she chats with someone from another group, leaving you trailing behind. They surge toward the bar, a noisy clump of university students jostling for attention from the bartender. You linger at the edge of the crowd, unsure of whether to join in or keep your distance.
Your eyes wander across the room, taking in the mismatched furniture and the way the low-hanging lights cast strange shadows over the scuffed wooden floor. It feels gritty, raw—nothing like the polished campus lounges or cafes you’re used to. People are packed into every available space, some leaning close to shout over the music, others pressed together in corners.
When you finally look toward the bar, something—or other, someone—catches your attention.
She’s pretty tall, her toned, tattooed arms flexing subtly as she works, pouring drinks expertly without even looking at her hands sometimes. Short, pink hair glows faintly under the neon lights, messy and partly shaved on the side of her head, but it was like she rolled out of bed and still managed to look better than anyone else in the room. She’s wearing a fitted black tee, tattoos peeking out along her biceps as she slides a drink across the counter to a waiting customer.
She glances up for the briefest moment, her sharp blue eyes scanning the crowd—and they land on you. Just for a second, you think, but it’s enough to make your pulse quicken.
But you look away before you could give her a chance to the way your cheeks reddened slightly, thought it would’ve been hard to see anyway underneath the dimness of the light.
You ended up in a booth in one of the corners of the room, sitting with a couple of your classmates as they drank and ate their pizza. The booth creaks slightly as you lean back, your drink—something simple and unadventurous—sitting untouched in front of you.
The group you came with has scattered across the room now to various corners of the bar, their loud laughter and shouts blending into the rest of the noise.
You’re not sure why you agreed to come tonight. Finals around the corner were stressful enough without the added distraction of cheap liquor and the kind of music that vibrates in your chest.
Across from you, someone slides into the booth with a bit too much enthusiasm, too much confidence, their knee knocking against yours under the table.
You glance up to find a man from your group—one of those classmates whose name you barely remember—flashing you a wide grin. Jason? Jacob? He had short brown hair, a white button up under his coat and smells faintly of whiskey and strong cologne, his cheeks flushed in a way that suggests he’s had a drink too many.
“Hey,” he says, his voice pitched louder than it needs to be over the music. “You’re in Professor Medarda’s class, right? Postmodern lit?”
You blink at him, already regretting this conversation.
“Yeah,” you reply, tone flat, hoping he’ll get the hint and move on.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he leans in, propping his elbow on the sticky table like he’s settling in for a long chat.
“Aren’t you the one who absolutely wrecked her in that debate? Something about, what was it—‘deconstructing the deconstruction’ or whatever?” He waves a hand vaguely, his grin turning lopsided. “Man, that was brutal. Everyone was talking about it for days.”
You press your lips into a thin line, your gaze drifting toward the bar. The bartender with the pink hair is still there, moving effortlessly behind the bar underneath the warm glow of the lights. She laughs at something one of the regulars says, the sound faint but distinct over the din, and you find yourself wishing you were anywhere but here, maybe talking to her instead of… this guy.
“Yeah, well,” you say finally, dragging your attention back to him. “It wasn’t… really a debate. I just pointed out that her entire argument was contradictory.”
Jason-or-Jacob—whatever—laughs, a little too loudly, and takes a swig of his drink.
“See, that’s what I mean! It’s… it’s impressive… And not to mention… you’re… really pretty on the eyes.” He gestures vaguely in your direction, his eyes lingering a little too long.
You shift uncomfortably as you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Uh… right, thanks.”
He chuckles again, clearly not picking up on your disinterest. “No, seriously. You’re, like, intimidating. Smart. And hot. In a good way.”
“Uh-huh.” You tap your fingers against the edge of your glass, your patience wearing thin. “Listen, if this is your way of hitting on me, you might want to workshop it… or something.”
That finally seems to trip him up, his grin faltering as he moves awkwardly in his seat. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just…”
“Right,” you cut him off, standing and grabbing your drink. “Thanks for the conversation, but I’m gonna go… anywhere else.”
You don’t bother waiting for his response as you stand and step away from the booth, weaving through the crowd.
The bar feels slightly less oppressive now that you’re moving, and as you approach the counter, you can’t help but glance toward the bartender again. She’s wiping down a glass, her movements precise, and for the second time tonight, her eyes meet yours. This time, there’s a flicker of something—curiosity, maybe—as her lips twitch into a subtle smirk.
You set your drink down on the counter, your heart skipping just a little. Maybe tonight isn’t a complete waste after all.
The stool creaks faintly as you settle onto it, the weight of the night pressing on your shoulders. You prop your elbow on the bar and glance down at your drink, still untouched. The condensation clings to the glass, cool against your fingertips as you absently trail them along its surface.
The music feels louder here, basslines thrumming through the wooden counter, but it fades into the background every time your gaze drifts upward—to her.
The bartender.
She’s been moving nonstop, hands deft and practiced as she pours drinks, slides glasses across the counter, and exchanges brief words with customers. She was confident and smooth without even trying, her short pink hair glowing faintly under the neon lights that flicker lazily behind her.
You tell yourself you’re not staring, but you are.
She’s impossibly attractive, the kind of person who seems entirely out of reach—too cool, too confident, too… everything. And yet, you catch yourself glancing her way more often than you should, trying to look away quickly enough that she doesn’t notice.
You sigh, shifting in your seat as you fiddle with your drink again, fingers tracing patterns on the glass. You haven’t taken a sip, and you’re not even sure why you ordered it. It was just something to hold, something to keep you occupied in this crowded room.
Just as you glance up again, hoping to catch another fleeting glimpse of her, a voice interrupts your thoughts.
“Hey there,” someone slurs, the words thick and clumsy.
You blink, turning to find a man standing far too close, his grin lopsided and his eyes glassy from too many drinks. His shirt is untucked, and he sways slightly as he leans an elbow on the bar, effectively blocking your view of anything else—including her.
“You’re way too pretty to be sitting here all alone,” he says, his words slurred but bold. “Let me keep you company, yeah?”
“I’m not alone,” you say flatly, holding up your glass like it’s proof. “And, I’m not interested.”
He laughs, as if you’ve said something charming. “Nah, come on. You’re too gorgeous to be hiding away in the corner. You need someone to—”
“No,” you interrupt, your tone sharp. “I’m really not interested.”
But he doesn’t take the hint. Instead, he leans in closer, his breath reeking of alcohol. “Don’t be like that. Just one drink, huh? I promise I’m a good time.”
You grimace, leaning back and trying to create some distance. “And I promise I’m not.”
The man chuckles, as if he thinks you’re joking, and you feel your frustration rising. You glance around, hoping someone—anyone—might intervene, and that’s when you notice her again. The bartender.
She’s been watching, her sharp eyes narrowing as she assesses the situation. Her hands pause mid-motion as she sets down a freshly poured drink, and without missing a beat, she walks over to your side of the bar.
“Hey,” she says, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade.
The drunk man looks up, startled, as she plants both hands on the counter, leaning slightly forward. Her gaze is steely as she stares down the man next to you.
“You bothering her?” she asks, her tone deceptively casual, though there’s a warning laced in her words.
The man blinks, clearly caught off guard. “What? No, we were just talkin’.”
“Yeah, well, she doesn’t look like she’s enjoying the conversation,” she replies smoothly. Then she turns her attention to you, her expression softening just a fraction. “You good, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart. The word sends a small jolt through your chest, and for a moment, you can only shake your head, your voice caught in your throat.
The man mutters something under his breath, but the bartender doesn’t budge.
“You should go.” she says firmly. “Or I’ll have someone make you leave.”
He hesitates, but the weight of her stare is enough to make him backpedal. He stumbles away, disappearing into the crowd, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
“Thanks,” you murmur, glancing up at her.
You see her more clearly now. Light blue eyes. A strong nose. A small scar over her top lip. Another one over her eyebrow. Nose ring. And a small tattoo of the Roman numeral six on her cheek.
She straightens, brushing her hands off on a rag as a smirk tugs at the corner of her lips.
“Don’t mention it. A lot of people don’t know how to take a hint.”
You can’t help but smile faintly, your fingers still absently fiddling with your glass. “You seem good at dealing with them… They listen to you.”
“Well, there’s this rule around here that, uh, people shouldn’t really mess with the guy who pours the drinks, so… they either listen or I call Loris—our big scary bouncer.” she says with a smile, leaning against the bar now, her full attention on you.
“Do they always listen?”
The bartender smiles that charming smile of hers and simply says, “No.”
She clears her throat and looks down at your hands, then looks back up at you with an eyebrow raised.
“You gonna drink that, or is it just decoration?”
“Haven’t decided yet,” you say. Her teasing tone makes your cheeks warm. You glance down at your untouched drink, swirling the liquid idly in the glass before muttering, almost to yourself, “I don’t actually drink that often, to be honest…”
Her voice pulls you from your thoughts, warm and teasing. “A glass of water for the pretty lady, coming right up.”
Your head snaps up at the words, your cheeks instantly heating. She’s already reaching for a clean glass. But there’s something different now—something about the way she smirks just a little as she glances at you out of the corner of her eye.
“Pretty lady?” you echo, trying for casual, though you’re sure the slight waver in your voice gives you away.
She shrugs as she fills the glass with water, the ice clinking softly against the sides.
“Well, yeah,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What else would I call you?”
Your stomach flips at the nonchalant confidence in her tone, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to respond. “I don’t know. Most people just go with my name.”
She places the water in front of you, her smile widening just enough to show off the faintest hint of dimples. “Fair enough. But I don’t know your name yet.”
You hesitate, caught between the urge to give her your name and the inexplicable nerves that come with her attention.
You tell her your name, your voice a bit quieter than you intended.
Her smirk softens into something more genuine, and she repeats your name back to you, slow and deliberate, like she’s trying it out.
“I’m Vi,” she says.
Vi. The name suits her—short, sharp, and just as bold as the woman herself.
“Thanks for the water,” you manage to say, your fingers brushing the cool glass.
“Anytime.” Vi leans her weight on her forearms, resting them on the counter as she tilts her head slightly, her eyes catching yours. “So, if you’re not much of a drinker, what brings you here?”
You can’t help but smile, a small laugh escaping you despite yourself. “My friend thought I needed a break from studying. Dragged me out here against my better judgment.”
“Ah… Those your friends over there?” She nods her head in a certain direction, and you follow it slowly.
You see the group you came with, some scattered by the bar spilling drinks and laughing loudly, others by booths making out and shouting over the music and the rest dancing on the dance floor. There are others, who are gathered by the jukebox, laughing and trying to figure out how to play something other than the heavy bass thundering through the speakers. One of them is gesturing wildly, clearly tipsy, while another leans against the wall, scrolling through their phone like they’re already over it.
You shake your head and smile, “Yeah…”
“Loud bunch.”
“Sorry ‘bout that… finals are coming up soon this month, so...”
She gives you a smile and says, “No need to apologize, princess. I serve you, remember?”
Another one. Princess. You were sure you probably as red as a tomato now.
“I barely know half of them...” you say, taking sip of your new glass of water.
“So, what’s your usual crowd then?” Vi asked, her eyes completely on you as she grabs a glass to wipe it down with a rag.
You shrugs, “Textbooks?”
“Well, that’s no good.”
“So I’ve heard,” you reply dryly, taking another small sip of the water she’d poured for you.
She chuckles again as if she finds your answer amusing in a way she doesn’t quite want to admit.
“I’m not exactly big on crowds either,” she says, leaning a little closer as if sharing a secret.
You raise an eyebrow, gesturing subtly to the packed room around you, where people are practically spilling over each other in their rush to the bar. “I’m not sure if I believe you.”
Vi follows your gaze, scanning the chaotic scene with a small smirk tugging at her lips.
“Fair point,” she concedes, looking back at you.
You glance at her again, curious despite yourself. She’s standing still now, leaning back against the counter with her arms crossed loosely over her chest. Her gaze is on you, not in the sharp, observant way she’s probably used to watching the bar, but softer—almost like she’s lost in thought.
Her smile is faint, but it’s there, tugging gently at her lips, and it’s different from the teasing smirks you’ve seen so far. This one feels more… personal, like she’s mulling something over and doesn’t quite realize she’s staring.
Your stomach twists, her attention making you acutely aware of every small movement you make—the way your fingers nervously trace the condensation on your glass, the way you’re trying not to shift under her gaze.
Finally, you can’t help but ask, your voice a touch quieter than you intend, “What?”
Vi blinks, like you’ve pulled her out of a daydream, and her soft smile turns into something a little sheepish.
“Sorry…” she says, before licking her lips. “Just, uh, a bit distracted.”
Her eyes linger on you for a moment longer, as if she’s debating saying something else. Absentmindedly, she tries to trace every feature of your face with your eyes, trying to remember it.
She wanted to say something else—anything… But, fuck. You were really pretty… and it was distracting her. She also decided that she really liked talking to you—even though it’s barely been ten minutes.
But then, from down the counter, someone shouts her name—a regular by the sound of it, slurring slightly as he waves an empty glass in the air.
“Vi! Another round over here!”
Vi doesn’t move right away. Her head turns slightly in the direction of the call, but her attention snaps back to you almost immediately. She hesitates, not wanting to go anywhere.
She shifts her weight, one hand resting on the counter, her body angled toward you even as she glances down the bar.
“Be right there!” she calls back. It’s almost begrudging.
Your lips twitch into a small smile, watching the tiny battle play out on her face.
“You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” you say lightly, though there’s something a little playful in your tone.
Her eyes dart back to yours, and she huffs out a soft laugh, her hand running through her short pink hair.
“Yeah, I know,” she smiles and mutters, almost to herself, before adding softly, almost like a plea, “Call me if you need anything?”
You nod and she smiles. You watch her go, the faint blush on your cheeks lingering as you sip at the water she poured, the ice cold and refreshing.
For the first time tonight, you’re glad your friend dragged you out.
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You cant stop thinking about her.
The library is silent except for the soft rustling of pages and the faint clicking of keyboards. It’s a lot more crowded here now, especially during this time of the year, and you’ve grown not to like it. You’re hunched over a stack of textbooks, a highlighter in your hand, staring down at a paragraph you’ve already reread three times. The words swim on the page, refusing to stick, as if your brain has decided it’s reached its limit.
You let out a frustrated sigh and lean back in your chair, dragging a hand through your hair. The fluorescent lights overhead feel harsher than usual, and the quiet tension of finals week is suffocating.
But it’s not just the studying—or the endless pressure of upcoming exams—that’s been messing with your head.
It’s Vi.
You’ve tried to focus, tried to immerse yourself in everything you could but every time your mind starts to settle, her face slips back in. The way her smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. The way her pink hair caught the light behind the bar. The low, teasing lilt of her voice when she called you pretty.
You groan softly, rubbing your temples. This is ridiculous. You barely know her. You’ve spent what—maybe an hour total in her presence? And yet, she’s managed to lodge herself into your thoughts so completely that it’s becoming a problem.
The highlighter in your hand falls to the desk with a muted thud, and you drop your head into your hands, your elbows resting on the textbook in front of you. You can still see the way she looked at you—softly, like she saw something in you that others hadn’t bothered to notice.
It’s infuriating, really. You’ve got finals to prepare for, and instead, your mind is full of half-replayed conversations and fleeting glimpses of pink hair, strong arms and tattoos.
The worst part? You can’t shake the feeling that she’s thinking about you, too.
It’s irrational—you know that. She’s probably forgotten all about you by now, busy serving countless other customers, flashing that same smirk at someone else.
But a part of you, buried beneath the layers of reason and logic you cling to, whispers otherwise.
You snap out of your thoughts and glance at the open book in front of you. The words blur together again, mocking your lack of focus.
With a frustrated exhale, you push the textbook aside and pull out your phone, the screen lighting up in your hand. You scroll aimlessly for a moment, debating whether you’re actually considering what your restless thoughts are urging you to do.
Should you go back? Would she even remember you?
You shake your head, trying to will away the temptation.
Finals. Study. Focus.
You tap your pen against your notebook, each click bouncing off the walls of the crowded library. It’s packed to the brim, filled with students just as desperate as you to cram as much information into their heads as possible before finals. Yet, instead of feeling motivated, all you can focus on is the cacophony—the whispered conversations that aren’t really whispers, the shuffling of papers, the faint tapping of keyboards, the occasional obnoxious laugh breaking the tension.
Your head throbs.
With a sharp sigh, you drop the pen onto the desk and lean back in your chair again, staring blankly at the high ceiling. You’ve been sitting here for hours, yet the number of notes you’ve managed to take is embarrassingly low. Nothing is sticking. You can’t focus.
It doesn’t help that your thoughts keep drifting to her.
To Vi.
You shake your head as if it’ll clear the image, but it doesn’t.
The noise of the library swells again, louder this time—a group of students a few tables down bursts into laughter, drawing glares from everyone around them. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, but it doesn’t help.
The dorm wasn’t any better. Earlier, when you’d tried to study there, the walls practically vibrated with the bass of someone’s speaker. The hallway had been filled with voices, laughter, and the unmistakable sound of another dorm party kicking off despite the looming threat of finals.
You’d lasted maybe twenty minutes before storming out, bag slung over your shoulder, hoping the library would be better.
It wasn’t.
You sit there for a moment, staring down at your open textbook and the mess of half-finished notes in front of you. The sheer impossibility of getting anything done right now feels like a weight pressing down on your chest.
Screw this.
You grab your things in one swift motion, shoving your notebook and pens into your bag with more force than necessary. The chair scrapes loudly against the floor as you stand, drawing a few annoyed glances your way. You ignore them, slinging your bad over your shoulder and walking out of the library without so much as a glance back.
The cold evening air hits you the second you step outside, sharp and bracing, but you welcome it.
You pause at the edge of the path, staring out at the quiet campus bathed in the glow of dim streetlights. You should go back to your dorm, try again, push through the noise.
But the very thought of that makes your stomach twist.
Instead, your feet carry you forward, down the path and out toward the street. You don’t have a destination in mind, but you already know where you’ll end up.
It’s not a conscious decision—it never is, really. You tell yourself you just need a break, some fresh air to clear your head. But the truth hums beneath the surface, undeniable.
You want to see her.
When your feet finally stop, the bar looms in front of you, the soft glow of its neon sign illuminating the damp pavement below. The night air is cool against your skin, a faint breeze carrying the quiet hum of traffic and chatter.
Your hands are shoved deep into the pockets of your jacket, fingers curling into the fabric as you linger just outside the door. You glance at your reflection in the window—a hoodie that hangs a little loose on your frame, jeans you’ve had for years, and shoes slightly scuffed from the walk here.
You bite the inside of your cheek, wishing you’d thought to stop by your dorm first. Maybe throw on something a little prettier. But instead, your feet had brought you straight here, as if they knew something you didn’t.
It’s almost 9 p.m., and the bar looks alive even from the outside. You can always hear the faint hum of music seeping through the walls.
You hesitate. What are you even doing here? It’s not like you have a good excuse—no friends dragging you along this time, no group to blend into. You’re alone, standing in front of a bar where you might not even be remembered.
But the thought of her pulls at you, stronger than the nerves keeping your feet planted. You’d tried to shake her from your thoughts all week, telling yourself she was just a random bartender, someone you’d probably never see again. But it hadn’t worked. Every time you sat down to study, her face would slip into your mind.
Your chest tightens as you reach for the door, your hand hovering over the handle. What if she doesn’t remember you? Or worse—what if she does, and she thinks it’s weird that you’ve come back?
You shake your head, trying to push the doubts aside. You’re here now. You might as well step inside.
With a deep breath, you pull the door open and step into the warm, dimly lit space. The scent of alcohol and faint traces of perfume hit you first.
The bar is slightly less crowded than it had been the last time, but it still carries the same energy—low lights, muted colors, and a buzz of life that makes the air feel heavier than the world outside.
You glance toward the bar, your stomach twisting when you see her. Vi is behind the counter, her pink hair catching the soft light as she leans over to pass a drink to a customer. She straightens, her expression neutral as she scans the room, and then her eyes land on you.
For a split second, her face doesn’t change, and panic spikes in your chest. Maybe she doesn’t—
Then she smiles.
It’s subtle, but it’s there—a small, warm quirk of her lips that sends your nerves scattering in a hundred directions. She holds your gaze for just a moment before returning to what she’s doing, her hands moving fluidly to pour another drink.
You let out a shaky breath, your feet carrying you closer to the bar. You slide into one of the empty stools, trying to shake off the nervous energy buzzing under your skin. The cool wood of the counter feels solid beneath your palms as you rest your elbows on it, trying to make yourself look casual.
But it’s hard to relax with your pulse pounding so loudly in your ears. You glance around the room, looking for anything to distract you from the fact that she’s here.
You’re trying not to fidget with your fingers, not to bite the inside of your lip, not to seem like you’ve been thinking about this moment for days now—trying to shake the nerves that have settled into your bones. But it’s hard when you feel her presence just behind the bar.
It doesn’t take long before you feel her eyes on you.
You glance up just in time to see Vi, mid-conversation with another customer, glance over the counter at you. And in a split second, she’s finished what she’s saying to the customer, brushing past them with an ease.
She doesn’t even seem bothered by the fact that she’s walking away mid-conversation. It’s as if she’s already decided where she needs to be.
Your pulse quickens.
You watch her approach, the way she moves is confident, the soft hum of the music surrounding her as she gets closer. Her smile is almost shy this time, like she’s not entirely sure what to say after the last time you were here. But she doesn’t hesitate.
“I was wondering when I’d see you again,” she says as soon as she reaches you, her voice low, almost teasing, with just a hint of something more.
Her words catch you off guard for a second. You shift slightly on your stool, trying to keep your cool, but you can feel the heat creeping up your neck. Her gaze is steady, not flirtatious exactly, but certainly interested, like she’s been waiting for this moment as much as you have.
You clear your throat, and even though you try to sound casual, your voice betrays you.
“I didn’t really expect to be back so soon.” The words feel like a weak excuse even as you say them.
Vi chuckles softly, leaning just a little closer as she rests her hands on the counter, her gaze never leaving you. “Not really the type to stay away for long, huh?”
There’s that spark in her eyes again, that teasing warmth that makes you wonder if she’s deliberately making you squirm.
You roll your eyes, trying to hide the nervous flutter in your chest.
“I needed a break,” you explain quickly, looking away for a moment. “Studying was driving me crazy.”
You pull your bag closer to the bar, pretending to straighten it out, but your thoughts keep slipping back to her.
Vi’s smile softens a little as she studies you, her eyes tracing your face for a moment longer than necessary. She doesn’t seem in a rush, doesn’t try to fill the space with empty words or awkward small talk.
You swallow, suddenly aware of how much closer she’s gotten, how much she’s drawn you in. There’s an easy chemistry between you, something unspoken but undeniable.
“Well,” she adds, a teasing glint in her eye as she straightens back up, “What’s your drink of choice, princess?”
You almost forget how to breathe for a second at the sudden shift in the atmosphere, your heart racing again. You take a moment to collect yourself before replying, your voice just a little quieter than usual.
“Surprise me,” you say, the words coming out with a confidence you don’t entirely feel.
Vi’s smile deepens, her eyes flashing with something a little mischievous, “Think I can manage that.”
She decides on making something light and sweet—remembering that you didn’t drink that often.
You watch her as she begins to gather the ingredients for your drink, her hands moving expertly behind the bar. The soft clink of glass bottles and the gentle hiss of the tap. You barely even realize you’re fidgeting until you catch sight of her looking back at you, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
“Finals week started?” She asks.
You blink, momentarily caught off guard by the question. The thought of finals feels like a weight you’ve been trying to avoid all week. The textbooks, the endless hours of studying, the fact that you’re still not feeling ready for any of it—it all hits you again in that instant. But Vi’s gaze makes it hard to focus on anything else.
For a split second, you can feel it too—the awkwardness, the nerves, the slight flutter in your chest that feels completely out of place. It’s not just her usual flirtation. This feels different somehow. She’s not the smooth bartender effortlessly working the crowd, she’s… her. And it makes your heart skip in a way you’re trying to ignore.
“Yeah, it did,” you answer, your voice quieter than you intended. You rub the back of your neck, feeling a little out of place yourself. “It’s… been a nightmare. The library’s packed, the dorm’s loud—honestly, it’s like no one even remembers that we have to actually study for this stuff.”
She raises an eyebrow, her smile never quite fading but now tinged with something a little more… uncertain. Her gaze flits between you and the drinks in front of her, and for a moment, you wonder if she’s just waiting for something to happen.
“Seems like you’re trying to avoid it,” she says softly, her tone lighter but still holding that underlying curiosity. Her voice is almost shy now, like she’s letting down the tough-girl act just a little, and it feels natural. She looks at you again, this time a little less playful and more vulnerable.
You feel something stir inside of you at her words—maybe relief, maybe the sense that she’s giving you a little window into her own world.
“Yeah, kind of,” you admit, your gaze dropping to the counter as you fiddle with the edge of your glass. You take a breath, glancing back up at her, your tone playful but also a little softer than you meant.
She’s leaning slightly over the counter, her eyes scanning the room for a moment, as though looking for your friends. When she doesn’t find them, her gaze returns to you, a small quirk of her lips tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“Here alone tonight?” she asks, her tone light and soft.
You feel a small flutter in your chest, a hint of nervousness bubbling up—was she genuinely interested?
“Yeah,” you say, a little unsure, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass. “My friends are… off somewhere else.”
Vi nods slowly, that small smile still playing on her lips, and for a second, you almost feel like she’s understanding you without needing you to say much at all. She’s always been so good at reading people, it seems.
“Well, lucky for you,” she says with a wink, her tone playful but sincere, “I’m here to keep you company, then. No need to be alone if you don’t want to be.”
She leans a little closer, her voice dropping just low enough that only you can hear.
“Not that I mind the company, either.”
Her words settle in your chest, warm and easy, and for a brief moment, it feels like everything else—the noise, the people, the pressure of exams—falls away. All that’s left is the gentle pull of her attention, the way she makes you feel like you’re the only one she wants to talk to tonight.
You can’t help but smile, your nerves starting to ease.
“I like that you’re here,” you say, a little quieter now, the honesty behind your words surprising even you.
Oh.
Vi swallows the tiny lump in her throat, ears reddening at your words.
“Me too,” she says softly, her eyes meeting yours.
And then the night stretches on, the sound of clinking glasses and lively chatter filling the air, but somehow, the noise feels distant.
Vi moves between you and the rest of the bar, always managing to return to you just as you start to think she’s too busy to notice. She steps away occasionally to serve drinks, her smile never fading even when the pressure of the crowd pulls her in different directions.
Every time she returns, though, she looks at you with that same look in her eye, making you feel like you’re the only person in the room who matters. You can tell that she’s working, but there’s an ease in the way she glances over at you, as though she’s intentionally carving out space to keep you company, to make sure you’re not left alone in the bustle of the bar.
As the crowd grows louder and the night wears on, Vi seems to sense that things are getting a little out of hand. The rush of orders starts picking up, and she glances over at Mylo, a colleague of hers you’ve seen around. With a quick wave, she calls him over.
You watch as Vi leans against the bar, her body language shifting just slightly.
“Hey, Mylo, could you cover the drinks for a bit?” she asked, her tone casual, but there’s something unspoken in the way she does it. Mylo gives her a knowing glance, then nods and steps in to take over, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
Vi doesn’t waste any time.
For the rest of the night, she stays close, always coming back to check on you between serving drinks, leaning against the bar whenever she has a spare moment. Mylo helps manage the crowd, but Vi is there, always making sure you’re okay, always drawing you back into the conversation.
There’s no rush, no pressure—just an easy flow between you two, and the more time you spend with her, the next time her eyes meet yours, the way she smiled, the more you realize that this is something you’ve been craving without even knowing it.
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The night slips away quietly, and when you glance at the clock on the wall behind the bar, a wave of disappointment hits you.
It’s later than you thought. You hesitate for a moment, your fingers brushing the edge of your empty glass, and then you finally say it, though it’s not what you want to say at all.
“I should, uh… get going,” you murmur, your voice quieter than you intended. You already know you’ll regret it—regret leaving this place, leaving her.
Vi’s smile falters just a little, her eyes quickly flicking to the clock too, and you see the shift on her face, like she’s come to the same realization. There’s a brief, almost imperceptible pause between the two of you as the world around you continues on, but time seems to slow as she takes a breath.
“I… didn’t realize it was that late either,” she says, her tone softer now. And for a brief second, you can almost feel the space between you close in, like neither of you really wants to say goodbye.
Then, without skipping a beat, Vi’s voice pulls you back into the present.
“Hey,” she starts firmly, like she’s made up her mind about something. “Let me walk you back.”
You blink at her, the suggestion catching you off guard. You hadn’t expected her to offer—hadn’t thought she’d even consider it. And though a little part of you wants to say yes immediately, another part of you, the shyer, more self-conscious part, hesitates.
“I don’t want to put you out,” you say quickly, though you’re not entirely sure why you feel so shy all of a sudden. “Besides, you’re working.”
It’s a simple thing, after all, a walk.
But you’d be even more alone. With her. And although that made you excited, it made you even more nervous.
Vi doesn’t give you the chance to second-guess yourself. Her smile returns, and there’s a spark of something playful in her eyes.
“It’s no trouble,” she says, her tone light but insistent. “I’m not going to let you walk back alone at this time. I don’t think I’d be able to focus without knowing you got home safe, so...”
Before you can protest again, she turns to Mylo, who’s tending to the growing crowd at the far end of the bar.
“Hey, Mylo!” she calls out, her voice carrying just enough over the noise to catch his attention. “I’m taking my break now. Be back in a bit.”
Mylo doesn’t even look up from his work, just nods in acknowledgment. “Alright, Vi,” he calls back, and you catch the playful undertone in his voice. It’s clear he knows exactly what’s going on.
Not wasting any more time, Vi grabs her jacket from behind the bar. She slips it on ace doesn’t look back at you to see if you’re ready; she just turns, giving you that soft, inviting smile.
“C’mon,” she says, her voice low and gentle, like she’s pulling you into something that feels a little outside of the ordinary, but in the best way possible.
Her words make you pause, but only for a moment. You look at her—really look at her—and something about the way she’s standing there, waiting, makes your hesitation dissolve. The warmth in her smile settles in your chest, and for the first time in a while, you realize you don’t mind the idea of the night stretching out just a little longer.
You nod, a soft smile curling at your lips.
“Okay,” you say, your voice more confident than it was a second ago.
Vi grins.
Without another word, she starts walking toward the door, holding it open for you, and you follow her out into the cold night air. The city seems quieter now, the streets not as busy, and as the two of you step into the night, the world feels a little smaller, a little more intimate—just the two of you, alone together for the walk.
You can’t help but feel your heart race just a little, but in the best possible way.
The walk to your dorm is slower than you expect, almost as if neither of you wants to rush through it. The night air is cold, the streetlights casting soft pools of light on the sidewalk. The hum of distant traffic fades into the background as you walk side by side, your pace matching each other’s, no one in a hurry.
You’re not sure what it is, but something about the silence between you feels comfortable—like there’s no pressure, just two people walking together. Vi’s steps are easy, casual, but every so often, she glances at you from the corner of her eye, as though she’s watching you without even realizing it. It’s subtle, but you catch her gaze a few times, and each time, she looks away just a fraction too late, as if she was lost in thought.
You can’t help but notice it, how her eyes linger on you, how her attention feels a little more intense than you’re used to, but it’s not uncomfortable. No, it’s the opposite, actually—it feels like she’s admiring something in you, and the idea makes your stomach flutter in a way you can’t quite explain.
Vi keeps most of the conversation light at first, teasing you about how you managed to get through the day without completely falling apart under the weight of finals. But soon enough, the banter turns into something more genuine, more personal, and you find yourself sharing little details about your life.
Vi, on the other hand, seems to enjoy telling you bits and pieces about herself. She talks about the things she’s passionate about—how bartending isn’t just a job for her, but something that gives her a connection to people and to her dad especially, how she loves the way a good drink can change someone’s mood, make them feel more at ease. She tells you about her favorite spots in the city, the places she goes when she wants to unwind or just take a break from the noise.
She mentions that she has a little sister—one that she’s so proud of with how smart she is. She has a scholarship at some other university a pretty far from here, and you can tell Vi misses her dearly.
For the entire way, Vi doesn’t stop glancing at you.
It’s soft and subtle, but you can see it, feel it—the way her eyes linger on you, tracing the lines of your face in a way that makes you feel warm from the inside out.
And for the first time in a while, you don’t mind being the center of someone’s attention. You can’t help but wonder if, in some small way, she feels the same as you.
“So, your dorm’s just up ahead, right?” Vi says, snapping you out of your thoughts. Her voice is low, and there’s a hint of something soft in it. You realize, in that moment, that this walk has felt… different.
“Yeah, just a couple more blocks,” you reply, your voice a little quieter now, feeling like the night has already given you more than you expected.
Eventually, the two of you reach the entrance of your building. It was an apartment style dorm, sitting just a few miles away from campus.
You stop for a moment, your feet lingering on the sidewalk as you take a small breath, suddenly feeling reluctant.
You don’t want it to end—not just yet.
But before you can say anything, the loud thump of music reaches your ears, coming from one of the floors above. Vi’s eyes flick up toward the building, and her brow furrows slightly as she notices the source of the noise.
“Guess the party’s already in full swing,” she murmurs, a bit of a wry smile tugging at her lips, but there’s something in her tone that’s a little amused.
“Yeah. The usual,” you say, your voice tinged with mild exasperation. You chuckle softly, rubbing the back of your neck, feeling a little embarrassed. “They don’t really care if it’s late… It can be quiet sometimes… but on rare occasions.”
Vi glances up at the building, the loud music still spilling out from one of the floors. She hesitates for a moment, then looks back at you.
“You know, uh, the bar doesn’t… open until six… I mean, the lounge opens at ten, but… no one really comes around that time,” she says, her voice quieter now, as if the suggestion she’s about to make is somehow more personal.
She glances at you again, her eyes flickering with tiny hint of nervousness.
“You could, uh, come earlier if you want some quiet… I’ll be there.”
You hadn’t expected that—hadn’t expected her to offer her own space at all. The bar, of all places.
You feel a warmth spread through you at the thought, a pull you hadn’t expected. Something about it makes your heart race a little faster, and you find yourself hesitating, uncertain if you should take the leap.
It was kind of a lousy excuse, Vi thought, but at least she’d get to see you again, instead of waiting all week to see if you’d stop by.
Though she knew she probably should’ve just asked you out on a date like a normal person, but… maybe she’d be able to see more of you this way.
“Vi, I—” you start, but you don’t really know what to say.
“You don’t have to,” she adds quickly, her voice gentle, as if she’s afraid to push too hard. “But if you’re looking for a place to study, it’s quiet in the mornings. And I promise not to be in your way. You don’t have to stay long or anything—just… if you want to, I’m there. And we could talk more, or just… not.”
The sincerity in her voice catches you off guard, and you feel a small tug at your chest.
You glance at her, meeting her eyes for just a moment, and that’s all it takes. Despite the swirl of thoughts in your head, you find yourself nodding.
“Okay,” you say, your voice steady now, though there’s a trace of something soft beneath it. “I’d really like that.”
You watch as her smile brightens, a little relieved and a little pleased, and for a moment, she doesn’t say anything, she just nods.
Vi pauses just as she’s about to turn away, a hesitant look crossing her face. For a moment, she seems to be second-guessing herself, like she’s trying to figure out the best way to say something without overstepping. Then, with a slight sheepishness that’s almost endearing, she glances back at you, her cheeks coloring ever so slightly.
“Oh, shit, I-I should probably give you my number… you know, in case I’m not there or anything,” she says, her voice a little softer, a little more self-conscious than usual. Her fingers nervously tug at the hem of her jacket, and her eyes flicker away briefly.
You can’t help but smile at the way she’s acting—this confident, capable bartender who, just moments ago, had been so cool and smooth, now hesitating as if she’s unsure whether she’s overstepping by asking for your number.
You reach for your phone, feeling a small rush of warmth in your chest.
“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” you say, your voice light but warm, trying to make her feel at ease.
You quickly unlock your phone and pass it to her, offering a small, reassuring smile.
Vi’s fingers brush against yours as she takes your phone, and for a second, the touch lingers. She types in her number quickly, and you catch the faintest flicker of a smile playing at the corner of her lips. She hands the phone back to you after saving her contact information and you glance down at the screen.
violet :)
“Done,” she says, her voice light again. “Just… in case you need to reach me or anything…”
Vi pulls out her phone, her fingers slightly fumbling as she unlocks it. Her eyes flick up to meet yours, and she gives you a small, almost nervous smile. You type your number into her phone in return, and when you hand it back, you make sure your fingers brush against hers just a little longer than necessary. She smiles softly when she gets her phone back, seeing the small heart you put next to your name.
“Thank you, Vi,” you say softly, feeling a little bolder now.
She grins, the playful glint in her eyes back now, “Text me… whenever.”
She lingers, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, the edges of her smile bright but just a little tight, like she’s holding something back. Her eyes meet yours, warm and soft, and for a moment, neither of you says anything.
You notice the way her gaze flickers, almost imperceptibly, down to your lips. It’s quick, barely a second, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. Your heart thuds in your chest, and you wonder if she realizes how obvious she is—or maybe she doesn’t care. Either way, her attention makes your stomach flip in a way you’re not entirely prepared for.
“I should…” she begins, her voice quiet and almost reluctant. She shifts on her feet, looking down for a moment before glancing back up at you. She hesitates, like she’s searching for a reason to stay, even though she knows she can’t. “…get back to work.”
Her words are practical, but the way she says them—soft and almost regretful—makes it clear she doesn’t really want to leave.
She’s stalling, and you can tell.
For once, Vi doesn’t have that confidence she carries behind the bar. Right now, she just looks… a little unsure. A little vulnerable.
“Goodnight,” you say softly, the words gentle but carrying more weight than you intended.
Her smile widens, though it’s still tight-lipped, and she nods, her hands still buried in her jacket pockets.
“Yeah… goodnight, princess,” she echoes, her voice just above a whisper. She lingers for another second, her gaze sweeping over your face before she finally steps back.
The sound of her boots on the pavement fades as she turns and walks away, heading back down the street toward the bar.
As she disappears into the distance, you catch yourself glancing at your phone, her number now saved there, and you wonder how long you’ll be able to resist texting her. The night air feels colder without her, but the warmth she left behind lingers all the same.
Truth be told, Vi isn’t usually the one to open the bar.
That’s Mylo’s job, and it’s been that way for as long as she can remember. Surprisingly, he’s the early bird, arriving just maybe thirty before ten—always grumbling about it but showing up on time regardless, keys jangling as he flips on the lights and starts the long process of getting the place ready. It’s quiet in the morning, and it’s practically empty until the sun starts to set.
Vi’s shift doesn’t typically start until later in the evening, right when the crowd begins to build, when the air gets thick with chatter and the clink of glass. That’s her time, where she thrives: loud music, fast drinks, and tiny bit of chaos.
But as soon as Vi gets back to work that night after walking you to you back, something shifts. She heads straight behind the bar, sets her jacket down with a quickly, and finds Mylo leaning against the counter, lazily wiping down the counter like he always does. He glances up at her, one brow quirked, clearly ready to make some smart comment about her lateness and tease her about that little crush she has on you.
But before he can get a word out, she cuts him off.
“I’m opening from now on,” she says flatly, her voice leaving no room for argument.
Mylo freezes mid-motion, the rag in his hand hovering over the counter. He stares at her for a moment, like he’s not sure he heard her right.
“What?” he says finally, his tone incredulous. “Since when do you wanna deal with the morning grind? You hate opening.”
“Since now,” Vi snaps, her tone sharp like she’s already decided and doesn’t care for an explanation.
Mylo narrows his eyes, leaning against the bar with a skeptical look. “You’re serious? You, of all people, wanna deal with the dead hours?”
“Yeah,” Vi says simply, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and beginning to organize the counter with quick, efficient movements. “It’s not a big deal.”
Mylo snorts, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “It is for you. You hate the quiet. You told me that yourself. Even Claggor hates the quiet.”
Vi doesn’t answer right away.
She busies herself adjusting the liquor bottles, her back turned to him as she forces herself not to think about why she’s doing this—or more accurately, who she’s doing this for. But her thoughts betray her anyway, drifting back to the way you’d looked at her tonight, soft and unsure but trusting, the way you’d smiled at her when she offered you the bar as a place to get away. The memory makes something tighten in her chest.
She finally turns back to Mylo, her face composed, her tone even.
“Just need a change of pace,” she says with a shrug, though even she knows it’s not convincing. “Besides, you could use the extra sleep.”
Mylo stares at her for another beat and squints his eyes, clearly unconvinced but too tired to argue.
“Is this about that girl you were talking with earlier?”
“No,” Vi said all too quickly, but she knows she couldn’t keep up the lie against Mylo for too long. “Maybe… Yes.”
“Why didn’t you just ask her out? Looked like she liked you enough. Plus—she literally came back to see you—“
“Just—Let me have this. If it goes sour, you can have all the free drinks you want.”
“Fine,” he says, throwing his hands up in defeat. “It’s your funeral. Just don’t come crying to me when you’re stuck listening to the same three jazz songs we have on Vander’s old jukebox.”
Vi smirks, but it’s faint, her mind already elsewhere. “Noted.”
The truth is, she doesn’t care about the mornings or the hassle of opening. All she cares about is the chance that you might show up again, walking into the bar in the early hours, looking for a place to escape the noise.
And if that means opening the doors herself, sitting in silence for a couple hours, and putting up with Mylo’s grumbling, so be it.
She doesn’t tell him any of this, though. She just gets back to work, excited for the next time she might see you.
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The sunlight filters in through the thin curtains of your dorm room, soft and golden, warming your skin as you slowly wake. Your eyes blink open, the haze of sleep still clinging to you, and for a moment, you simply lie there, staring up at the ceiling.
Then, your mind drifts back to the night before.
Vi… again.
The thought of her hits you like a spark, and you feel a smile tug at your lips before you can stop it. Your chest tightens slightly, but not unpleasantly, just enough to make you feel warm all over.
Still smiling, you roll onto your side, glancing at your phone on the nightstand. The thought of texting her had crossed your mind the second you got back to your room last night, but you hadn’t been sure if you should. What would you even say?
Now, as the morning stretches ahead of you, you find yourself staring at your phone again, the nervous energy in your chest making it hard to breathe.
You pick it up, the screen lighting up instantly. And there it is.
A small notification sits at the top of your screen.
“1 new message from violet :)”
Your heart jumps, and your thumb hovers over the notification for just a second before you tap it, unable to wait any longer. The message opens, and your breath catches when you see it.
not to brag, but it’s very quiet this morning. open invitation ;)
Attached is a picture of the bar. The room is empty, save for the neat rows of chairs and the warm light spilling in from the windows. The space looks so different from the lively, chaotic energy you’d seen before—calm, inviting, almost serene. But what catches your eye most is the subtle detail in the photo: her black jacket draped over the back of one of the chairs in the corner, and a mug sitting on the counter.
She’s there, waiting.
Your heart does a little flip, and you bite your lip, staring at the message. The cheeky little smirk emoji at the end feels so quintessentially Vi, and you can almost hear the teasing lilt in her voice as you read the words again.
You’re not sure how long you sit there, staring at your phone, trying to decide how to respond. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, typing and deleting messages you’re too nervous to send. Finally, you settle on something simple, something safe.
all that space for me?
You hit send before you can overthink it, your chest fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves. Almost immediately, the little bubble indicating she’s typing pops up, and your stomach flips again.
you get special treatment, what can i say?
Her reply comes with another photo—this time, a close-up of her coffee mug on the counter, a little steam curling up from the top. In the background, you can see her hand resting on the bar, the edge of a tattoo peeking out from her wrist. It’s casual, but the fact that she took the time to send it makes your cheeks flush.
You can’t help but smile again, your heart racing as you stare at the screen. The morning, which had started so quietly, now feels electric, buzzing with the possibility of seeing her again. And as you type out your next reply, you can’t help but wonder where this might lead—and how you’ve somehow stumbled into something that already feels so much more than you expected.
You barely even remember the process of getting ready.
It was all a blur of rushing to find something cute, definitely cuter than the night before yet comfortable, sifting through your limited wardrobe for something that felt right. Even though the chill of winter was biting at the edges of the morning, you chose an outfit—layered up enough to keep warm, but nice enough to make you feel put together. You’d even spent a little more time on your hair, fixing it neatly just for Vi to see.
Now, standing in front of the bar, the nerves hit you all at once.
The quiet street around you makes the moment feel even more amplified. You glance at the entrance, the black-painted door that suddenly feels much taller, more imposing, than it had before. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the bag full of textbooks and notes hanging heavy at your side, reminding you of the excuse you gave yourself for coming here.
It’s just a quiet place to study, you tell yourself for the hundredth time, though you know it’s only half the truth.
The other half is much more difficult to admit—that you’re here for her. That something about Vi has been stuck in your head ever since she walked you home, her warm, smooth voice, the way her blue eyes lingered on you. She made your entire body flutter and you can’t help but want more of it.
You take a deep breath, clutching the strap of your bag tightly, and push the door open. The soft chime of the bell above the frame jingles lightly, and you step inside, immediately greeted by the sound of soft jazz playing in the background. The bar looks just like it had in the photo—empty, calm, and warm, bathed in the golden glow of lights reflecting off the polished surfaces.
Your eyes scan the room, and there she is.
Vi stands behind the bar, her jacket from earlier now draped over a nearby stool. She’s pouring herself a cup of coffee, her back to you at first, but as the door closes behind you, she glances over her shoulder. The moment she sees you, her face lights up with that easy smile, the one that makes your chest flutter in ways you’re not quite ready to deal with.
“Look who it is,” she says, setting her mug down and leaning casually against the counter. She folds her arms across her chest, giving you an appraising look. “Was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.”
You step forward, trying to steady your breathing as you approach the bar. “Well,” you say, your voice soft but steady, “that picture you sent was pretty convincing. Had to check it out for myself.”
Vi’s smile widens, and she gestures to the empty space around you. “Guess you came to the right place, huh? It doesn’t get much quieter than this.”
You nod, trying not to fidget as you sling your bag onto one of the stools. “Yeah. Plus, you did say I’d get special treatment.”
Vi chuckles at that, her voice low and warm, “I did, didn’t I?”
She leans forward slightly, resting her elbows on the counter as she watches you unpack a few of your books.
“Something like that,” you mumble, flipping open a notebook and trying not to let her attention distract you too much. It’s easier said than done, though, especially when you feel her eyes on you, warm and curious, like she’s genuinely interested in every little thing you do.
Vi gestures toward your bag with a playful grin. “Didn’t know you’d bring your entire library with you.”
“It’s called being prepared.”
She smirks at that, but as you settle into your work, she finds herself falling quiet. Her gaze lingers on you as she leans back slightly, folding her arms.
“Go ahead and start. I’ll be here if you need anything,” she says kindly, a smile on her face that made your stomach flutter.
You thank her with a smile and a nod and the only thing Vi can think about is how cute you are.
In just a couple of minutes, you’ve focused up, skimming through a page of dense text, your brow furrowed in concentration, and Vi can’t help but notice the way your nose scrunches just a little when you hit something particularly complicated.
It’s… endearing.
She doesn’t mean to stare. Really, she doesn’t.
The jazz music playing softly in the background seems to fade into white noise as Vi lets herself get lost in the little details of you. The slope of your shoulders, the way your hair falls to the side when you tilt your head, the faint flush in your cheeks that she wonders—hopes—might have something to do with her.
She doesn’t even realize she’s staring until Mylo’s voice echoes in her head: You’re being so obvious, Vi.
She clears her throat, tearing her gaze away and reaching for the coffee mug she’d left on the counter. As she takes a sip, she glances back at you, this time trying to keep her interest a little more subtle.
You catch her staring just as you look up from your book, your eyes meeting hers for a brief moment. Vi freezes, caught, and you tilt your head slightly, raising an eyebrow.
“What?”
She blinks, quickly shaking her head and giving you a grin that’s a little too casual.
“Nothing,” she says, her tone light, though her ears flush faintly.
Then she looks down at her mug, then back up at you. She watches you as you shyly turned away, trying to mask the way your cheeks reddened under her stare. With a soft chuckle under her breath, she moves towards the edge of the bar, finally deciding to make you a cup of coffee.
She moves quietly as she works the espresso machine. The bar is silent except for the faint hum of the machine, the relaxing jazz playing in the background, and the occasional sound of you turning your pages, but her focus isn’t entirely on what she’s doing.
Instead, it keeps drifting to you. Sitting there, head bowed over your notes, and Vi can’t help but notice how different you look today compared to the last time she saw you.
You’re dressed a little nicer today—nothing too flashy, just enough that she can tell you put some thought into it. She likes it. She really likes it.
Maybe it’s the way your sweater hugs your frame a little more snugly, or how your jeans look perfectly paired with your boots. Or maybe it’s just the fact that everything about you feels intentional, like you dressed up… just for her.
Either way, it’s distracting her in the best way possible. She shakes her head slightly, trying to focus on the task at hand, but the thought keeps nudging its way back in: So pretty.
She glances at you as she pours the espresso shot into the cup, the deep brown liquid swirling into the mug. You’re chewing on the cap of a pen, your brow furrowed in concentration, and Vi feels a faint, involuntary smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
She watches closely. Too closely. She watches your lips shamelessly, wrapping your lips around the cylinder shape, biting softly on that pen, and… god, you’re just… something else.
Vi shakes her head and tries to throw the thought out of the window. It’s far too early to be thinking about you like… that.
The hot water follows, and before she knows it, the americano is ready. She sets it on the counter softly, barely making a sound, and steps back to admire her handiwork—not the coffee, but you. And maybe she’d never admit it out loud, but she could probably watch you for hours.
When you finally notice the mug in front of you, you blink up at her with a smile, a little startled.
Vi shrugs, leaning one elbow on the counter, her grin casual but her gaze lingering. “Coffee. Figured you could use it.”
Your lips quirk up slightly at her teasing, but there’s something shy in the way you glance down at the mug, your fingers brushing the edge of it.
“Thank you,” you mumble shyly, almost under your breath.
“No problem, princess.” Vi leans back, her hands sliding into her pockets as she studies you for a moment longer. You’re even prettier up close, she thinks.
After a couple minutes, Vi busies herself cleaning the counter, though her eyes flick back to you more often than she means them to. There’s something about you today that feels different… And if she’s being honest with herself, it’s driving her a little crazy—in a good way.
When Vi had her back turned for a moment, adjusting the bottles on the shelf behind the bar, it was your turn to take the opportunity.
Your eyes wandered before you could stop yourself, taking her in as she worked. She moved smoothly, easy, like she’d done this a thousand times before—and maybe she had—but it didn’t make the sight any less captivating.
You’d been trying to focus on your notes, scribbling little reminders in the margins or flipping pages as if you were actually absorbing the words.
But who were you kidding? You couldn’t concentrate. Not when Vi was right there.
Your gaze lingered on her arms first, toned and inked, muscles flexing just enough with every movement. The way she reached up to straighten a bottle, her fingers long and strong, made your thoughts blur and stutter.
And then there was her profile—the sharp angle of her jawline, the way her asymmetrical lips curved faintly even when she wasn’t smiling. That tiny quirk, one side of her top lip arched slightly higher than the other, was unfairly charming. It made her look like she was always on the edge of smirking, always holding back some witty comment.
When she turned slightly, moving to wipe down the counter again, you quickly dropped your eyes back to your notebook, pretending to read a passage you hadn’t actually taken in.
But the distraction didn’t last long. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her pick up a glass, her hands moving over it in smooth, practiced motions as she polished it to perfection. Her forearms flexed again just slightly, and you caught yourself staring again, your thoughts hazy and full of her.
Every time you looked up, there was something new to notice—the way her brows furrowed just a little when she was focused, the way her tattoos seemed to tell a story you desperately wanted to know. You liked the way her hair fell just a little out of place when she leaned forward, the way her shirt clung to her broad shoulders and the defined curve of her biceps.
You liked the way she moved, so sure of herself yet entirely unaware of just how mesmerizing she was to watch.
It was distracting, sure, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. If anything, you welcomed it.
It didn’t take long for the mornings at the bar to become your new routine.
Vi would open promptly at ten in the morning, and you’d stroll in not long after, bundled up in a jacket, a bag full of textbooks and notebooks slung over your shoulder. She’d always greet you with that soft, lopsided smile of hers, already moving to make you coffee before you even asked.
“Morning, princess,” she’d say, setting the mug in front of you with a little flourish, and you’d roll your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips every time.
You’d settle into your usual spot, unpack your books, and get to work while Vi busied herself behind the counter.
She was always within view, her quiet presence oddly comforting as you flipped through pages and scribbled notes. And she didn’t hover, not exactly, but you knew she kept an eye on you. She’d pause her cleaning or organizing to glance over, catching little glimpses of your concentrated frown or the way you tucked your hair behind your ear absentmindedly.
For you, the quiet space was perfect, and Vi’s company made it even better.
You studied through the morning, your head bent over your books, easily working and concentrating with the quiet surroundings, before eventually packing up to head to your exams in the afternoon.
One morning, though, exhaustion finally caught up with you. You’d been cramming for a couple days, running on little sleep, and your body decided it couldn’t keep up anymore.
Vi noticed you were quieter than usual, your head drooping slightly as you flipped through your notes. She’d thought about saying something but didn’t want to disturb you.
When she looked over again a few minutes later, though, she saw you slumped forward on the counter, your head resting against an open textbook. Your breathing was slow and even, your face pressed against the pages, looking completely at peace.
Vi froze for a moment, her chest tightening in a way she couldn’t quite explain. You looked… adorable, she thought, almost too perfect in that quiet, vulnerable moment. She wiped her hands on a towel absentmindedly, then glanced around the empty bar.
Unable to help herself, she moved from behind the counter and slid into the stool beside you, making sure to be quiet. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the counter as she studied you.
The soft rise and fall of your shoulders, the way your lashes fluttered just slightly in your sleep, the curve of your lips as they parted ever so slightly—it all made her heart ache in the strangest way.
For a few long minutes, she just sat there, her head tilted slightly, watching you like she was trying to memorize every detail. She thought about waking you up, but part of her didn’t want to. You looked too peaceful, and honestly, she liked having this moment to herself.
Vi let out a soft breath, her lips curving into a small smile.
“Pretty,” she murmured under her breath, the words barely audible even to herself.
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When finals week ended, you should’ve felt relief.
You’d survived the late nights, the endless notes, the last-minute cramming. But as you walked back to your apartment after your last exam, all you could feel was a gnawing worry sitting heavy in your chest.
Without exams to study for, without needing the quiet escape of the bar in the mornings, what excuse would you have to see Vi now?
Could you just… show up?
Vi had told you plenty of times that you were welcome there whenever. But it felt different now, like you were losing the one solid reason you had to sit in that quiet space while Vi worked behind the bar.
The thought made you slow your steps, your bag of textbooks feeling heavier than it had all week.
You’d fallen into a rhythm with her—those soft, peaceful mornings where she’d make you coffee without asking, tease you gently when you got too absorbed in your books, and being in her presence made you feel more grounded than you’d ever been.
Now that the routine was gone, you weren’t sure where that left you.
You tossed your bag onto your bed and flopped down beside it, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe I’ll still go to the bar tomorrow morning, you thought, trying to reassure yourself. But doubt crept in immediately. Would she think it was strange if you kept coming back without a reason? Would it seem like you were lingering too much, too long?
You rolled over, burying your face in the pillow as the worry churned in your mind. You couldn’t deny how much you liked being around her—how much you liked… well, her. The idea of not seeing her felt almost unbearable.
With a groan, you sat up and pulled your phone from your pocket. You stared at the screen, thumb hovering over Vi’s contact name.
You’d only messaged a few times before—mostly her checking in, asking if you’d made it back to your apartment safely. The thought of starting a conversation now made your stomach twist nervously.
But you wanted to see her. Needed to, even.
You tapped out a message and then erased it.
Then another.
Then erased that too.
What were you supposed to say? Hey, finals are over, but can I still come to the bar and stare at you for hours like a hopeless idiot? Stupid.
Finally, you set your phone down with a sigh, running your hands through your hair. Maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe she was thinking about you too, wondering if she’d still get to see you now that finals week was done.
But for a while, you stayed away.
Not because you didn’t want to go back—you wanted to more than anything—but the thought of walking into that bar now made your chest tighten with nerves.
The thought embarrassed you, enough that you buried yourself in other things—laundry, tidying your dorm, even a quick grocery run you didn’t really need. Anything to avoid confronting the growing ache in your chest that whispered how much you missed her already.
You told yourself you’d go tomorrow. Then tomorrow came, and you put it off again.
But those days dragged.
The emptiness of your mornings felt heavier than you expected, and the thought of Vi kept slipping into your mind no matter how hard you tried to focus on anything else.
Here, it felt hollow, like something was missing. And you knew exactly what it was.
By the second night, you were pacing your room, staring at your phone every few minutes, wondering if you should just message her. You groaned at yourself, flopping onto your bed and tossing your phone to the side.
It was ridiculous. You wanted to see her. You liked seeing her. So why was it so hard to just show up?
It was the knock on your door that snapped you out of your restless thoughts. You opened it to find Maddie standing there, already halfway dressed up, her hair curled and makeup done. She grinned at you, that mischievous glint in her eyes as she leaned against the doorframe.
“Get dressed,” she said without preamble. “We’re celebrating. We deserve to let loose a little.”
You hesitated for half a second, your mind immediately jumping to Vi and that bar. “Where exactly are we going?”
Maddie smirked. “The Last Drop, obviously.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you tried to play it cool, shrugging like you didn’t care either way. “Oh, back there again?”
“Hell yeah,” she said, already pushing her way into your dorm. “C’mon, don’t make me drag you. Get dressed. No excuses.”
For the first time in two days, you felt a rush of anticipation—nerves, yes, but excitement too. You couldn’t deny it anymore. You wanted to see Vi.
And maybe going with Maddie and the others would make it easier. Less pressure, less obvious that you were showing up just to see her.
So you jumped at the opportunity, rifling through your closet while Maddie lounged on your bed, offering unhelpful commentary about your choices. Eventually, you settled on something nice—a pretty dress, stockings, a coat to match.
“You clean up well,” Maddie teased as you slipped on your shoes.
You flushed, ignoring her as you grabbed your bag and jacket. It was cold outside, but you’d still made an effort—a bit of mascara, a touch of lipstick, enough to feel put-together.
But as you walked toward the bar, the nerves came creeping back.
The neon sign of the bar glowed in the distance, and your chest tightened as you stepped closer. The thought of seeing Vi again made your heart race, but you shoved the nerves down.
As soon as you stepped through the door of the bar, you could feel the atmosphere shift. It was quieter tonight, but still filled with the familiar hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, the low buzz of the jukebox in the corner.
Your eyes automatically darted to the bar, hoping—no, praying—that you might catch sight of her.
And then Maddie’s voice broke through your thoughts, loud and unmistakable.
“Hey, over here!”
You turned to see her waving enthusiastically at a booth toward the back of the bar. A few of her friends were already there, but what caught your attention wasn’t a group. It was the other two people sitting at the table, one of them leaning back with a casual air, a drink in hand, the other staring at you like they were expecting you.
You froze for a moment, your heart sinking. Your gaze flickered between Maddie and the table, noticing her bright, mischievous smile. She’d set you up.
You forced a smile, suddenly feeling out of place. “Uh, Maddie…?”
Your stomach dropped. A double date?
“This is Chris,” she interrupted, pointing at the guy sitting next to you. He smiled widely, practically leaning over the table as he extended his hand.
You hesitated for a moment, still processing the situation. “Uh… hi.”
“We thought you two would hit it off,” Maddie added, as though she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on you.
“Yeah, you know, I take Professor Talis’ class, right?” Chris said, his voice a little too eager. “We’ve had a couple of group discussions before.”
You offered a polite smile, not quite sure what to make of him. You weren’t even sure how to respond to the whole situation.
Was this supposed to be a date? You’d come to the bar to see Vi—not this.
You glanced around, your eyes scanning the familiar faces behind the bar, hoping to see her. And there, at the counter, you finally spotted her.
Vi.
Chris kept talking, his voice a constant buzz in the background as you tried to nod politely, throwing in an occasional “mhm” or “yeah” just to keep the conversation moving.
But your attention wasn’t on him. It wasn’t on anything other than Vi.
You saw her again, and this time, it wasn’t a subtle glance. Vi had noticed you, her gaze locking onto you from across the room. Her eyes moved briefly over your face, taking you in, before they shifted downward—her gaze narrowing slightly as she looked at Chris, who was still talking to you like everything was normal.
Your breath caught in your throat when you saw her brow furrow, just enough to let you know she was confused.
There was something in the way she looked at you, something almost possessive, like she couldn’t quite figure out what was going on but she knew for a fact that she didn’t like it. She stood still for a moment, fingers wrapped around the edge a glass as she studied you.
For a second, you wondered if it was just your imagination, but then it clicked. Vi was jealous.
You hadn’t noticed before, but now you saw the little tension in her posture, the way her lips pressed together just slightly, the way her gaze flicked back to you every time he leaned in a little too close.
Chris, oblivious to well… everything, kept talking, his voice rising a little as he continued to try and make small talk.
You had no idea what he’d said because all you could hear was the beat of your heart in your ears, and the undeniable pull of Vi’s gaze on you. It was like she was silently challenging you, wanting to see what you’d do.
You glanced back over to Vi, who was still watching you, but now she was pretending to be busy with something—towels, or glassware, or whatever it was that could distract her from the situation.
You saw her glance down at her phone for a second, and you could almost feel her trying to decide whether or not to come over, to approach you, to do something to get your attention.
But instead of doing that, she lingered behind the bar, still looking at you—her expression unreadable now. And as much as you tried to focus on the conversation in front of you, your mind kept drifting back to her. You didn’t care about him anymore. You didn’t care about anything except the way Vi looked at you just now.
Your eyes slid back to Vi, and this time, you didn’t look away. You didn’t try to hide how you felt.
On the other side of the room, Vi’s eyes were locked on you, even though she tried to focus on the tasks in front of her.
She couldn’t help herself, a sense of possessiveness building in her chest. She wondered if you had dressed up like that for him. The guy you’d been sitting with, the one talking a mile a minute, clearly trying to impress you.
Vi’s stomach twisted, and she found herself gripping the counter a little too tightly as she watched you.
God, you looked so good. Vi’s chest tightened at the thought. She tried to focus on cleaning the counter in front of her, but the image of you with him—of you dressed up for him—kept invading her mind.
She wanted it to be her you were dressed up for. She wanted it to be her who got your attention, who you couldn’t stop thinking about.
She couldn’t do this.
She had to look away, had to force herself to breathe, because it was all getting too much.
With a frustrated sigh, Vi wiped her hands on a towel and excused herself, slipping through the back of the bar and into the staff area. She didn’t care if anyone noticed. She just had to get out of there.
She slammed the door behind her, pressing her back against it as she took a deep breath. Her heart was racing, and her mind was spinning. She had no idea what this was, what you were doing to her.
But the thought of you with someone else, the thought of you not being hers, made her ache in a way she wasn’t ready for.
She rubbed her face with both hands, trying to shake the frustration from her body. She tried to steady herself, taking in a few deep breaths as she stared at the floor. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way. She wasn’t supposed to be jealous.
But she wanted you.
And the more she thought about it, the clearer it became.
Vi’s heart skipped a beat when she heard the knock on the staff room door.
She’d half expected it to be Mylo, probably ready to give her a hard time for disappearing off the floor. He always seemed to have a knack for knowing when she was brooding in the back, and she was sure he’d have something to say about it.
But when she opened the door, it wasn’t Mylo.
It was you.
You stood there in the doorway, hesitant, but with that soft look on your face. You looked so damn good up close like this—like you had stepped out of a dream. Vi’s chest tightened, and she swallowed hard.
You looked at her for a moment, unsure of what to say, and then, in a voice that was soft, you say, “I thought… I thought you might be back here.”
She stood still for a second, just staring at you, unsure of how to handle the fact that you had found her.
“Uh, sorry if I—” You paused, glancing down at your shoes like you weren’t sure how to proceed. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to, I don’t know, check in.”
“You’re not interrupting. I just—“ Vi stepped back to let you in, closing the door behind you. “—needed to take a break.”
She leaned against the door, keeping her distance, unsure if you’d notice how much she was trying to keep her guard up.
The silence stretched between you two, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt… intimate in its own way.
You were quiet too, glancing around the small room, but eventually, your eyes fell to her again. Vi noticed the way your gaze lingered on her, and she couldn’t help but feel the heat rise to her face.
Her breath caught in her throat for a second, but she quickly brushed it off, trying to focus on the conversation, trying not to get lost in the way you looked at her.
“You didn’t come back… when your tests were over…” Vi’s voice dropped quieter, a little hesitant, like she wasn’t sure how to ask the question.
She hadn’t seen you in a while, and it made her question everything.
The words hung between you, and Vi shifted uncomfortably, her gaze flickering away for a moment, focusing on something in the corner of the room.
She didn’t want to look too eager, too desperate. But the truth was, she had been thinking about you. Every minute of the day. And when she didn’t see you, when she didn’t hear from you, it made her feel like maybe she wasn’t as important to you as she had thought.
She didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but the words had slipped out. Vi cleared her throat, turning back to you.
“I thought… I thought maybe I’d see you again, but… you didn’t come back.” Her voice softened again.
Did you want to come back? Had she somehow messed things up by letting herself feel this much for you? Vi couldn’t keep the questions from creeping into her mind, even though she tried to push them away.
“You didn’t even text,” she said quietly, her voice softer now, almost a whisper.
You blinked, surprised by the sharpness in her voice, the way it cut through the silence that had been so comfortable just a moment ago. You could see it in her eyes—something in the way she said that, something fragile.
It made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t meant to distance yourself from her. You just… didn’t know what to say.
“I… I didn’t mean to disappear,” you said quietly, your voice soft and unsure. You shifted your weight, glancing down at your feet, before looking up again. “It’s just, I was nervous about coming back without having a solid reason to, and I thought maybe, you know…”
Vi’s gaze softened, the intensity in her eyes giving way to something more tender. She tilted her head slightly, studying you.
“Nervous?” she repeated quietly, as if testing the word. Her brow furrowed slightly. “About what?”
You swallowed, your fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your dress, trying to find the right words. It felt strange, admitting it aloud, but with Vi in the room with you, you couldn’t stop yourself.
“About… you,” you said, the confession slipping out before you could stop it. “About all of this… about seeing you again, about how I feel when I’m around you… I didn’t want to mess it up.”
Vi’s heart skipped a beat at your words. Her breath caught for a fraction of a second.
“It’s just…” she started again, her voice a little rough. “I missed seeing you. That’s all.”
Her gaze shifted to the floor for a moment, a faint flush creeping up her neck. She wasn’t used to admitting this kind of thing aloud either, not even to herself. But there it was, spilling out between you two like something she couldn’t stop.
You felt your heart tug at the honesty in her voice, the way it made you feel like maybe you hadn’t been the only one thinking about this.
“I missed you, too.”
And for the first time tonight, Vi finally smiled.
You couldn’t help but tease her, a small smirk curling at the corners of your lips as you said, “I was waiting for you to text me, too, you know.”
The words felt bold, but you couldn’t hide the nervous excitement bubbling up inside of you.
Vi dropped her head and let out a breathy chuckle. The jealousy, the frustration, everything she’d been feeling earlier—it seemed to vanish completely.
She leaned back against the door, her eyes never leaving yours, full of something far gentler now—something you hadn’t seen before, or at least not like this.
“Can you come here?” she asked, her voice soft, almost like a whisper, but there was something in it that made the air in the room thick.
You hesitated for just a moment, heart pounding in your chest, but you couldn’t resist. Slowly, you walked over to her, your movements measured, though a nervous excitement fluttered in your stomach.
Vi’s eyes never left you as you approached. She watched the way your dress moved with each step, the way your body shifted as you walked toward her, and it drove her absolutely wild. She couldn’t help but let her eyes linger, taking in the sight of you, the way the fabric clung to your curves.
By the time you were close enough, Vi had already moved. She leaned against the door, her hands coming up to gently but firmly grip your hips, pulling you in closer. You felt the heat of her touch spread through you, her hands on your hips guiding you so that you were now flat against her chest, your bodies pressed together.
You couldn’t stop the breath that caught in your throat, the feel of her hands on you sending a wave of heat rushing through your body.
You could feel the rhythm of her breathing, the slight hitch in it when you finally stood there, so close. Her gaze flickered down to the dress you were wearing, and you could feel the tension in her fingers as she lightly traced the hem of it, playing with the fabric as though she couldn’t quite get enough of it.
“I like this,” Vi’s voice was quiet, almost a murmur, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s pretty.”
You didn’t say anything at first, instead simply meeting her gaze, your pulse quickening under her touch. The way she looked at you now, hungry and dazed, made your stomach flip in the best way.
“I… I wasn’t sure if it was too much,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, feeling a little shy but also emboldened by the way Vi was looking at you.
Vi smiled softly, her lips curving up as she leaned in just a little bit closer, her breath warming your cheek.
“It’s perfect,” she said, voice low, as if the words were meant only for you. “You look perfect.”
Her eyes darkened just a fraction, the playful smirk on her lips transforming into something more primal, more feral. Her hands on your hips tightened just a little, urging you closer, as if she couldn’t get close enough.
Vi’s gaze was heavy, her pupils dark and blown wide as they locked onto your face, moving slowly down to your lips. Her stare was intense—shameless, even—and it made your breath hitch.
Her grip on your hips tightened, fingers pressing firmly into your sides. The fabric of your dress bunched up under her hands, her thumbs brushing against the soft material as though she couldn’t help herself. Her touch was slow, almost like she was trying to memorize the feeling of you under her palms.
You could feel the heat radiating off her, the space between you almost nonexistent now. The way her gaze lingered on your lips sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt rooted to the spot, as if moving would break whatever spell had settled over the two of you.
Vi swallowed hard, her Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, her hands twitching against your hips as though resisting the urge to pull you impossibly closer. Her chest rose and fell in time with her quickened breathing, and you could feel her struggle to keep herself in check, though the way she stared at you made it clear how difficult that was.
Instead, her fingers tightened again, the slight pull of your dress drawing you even closer to her. Her lips parted slightly, as if she were on the verge of saying something, but her gaze kept flickering back to your mouth, and you wondered if words were even necessary.
You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but before you could form a single word, Vi moved. Her grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your dress as she leaned in and claimed your lips with her own.
Her mouth was warm, soft but insistent, and it stole the breath right out of your lungs. You froze for half a second, startled, but then everything in you melted. Your hands found their way to her shoulders, gripping her lightly as she pulled you even closer, pressing your body flush against hers.
There was a kind of hunger in the way her lips moved against yours, but it was careful too—like she wanted to take her time and savor every second of it. Her fingers slid up your sides slightly, still gripping your dress, her thumbs brushing over your waist as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss.
When she finally pulled back, just barely, her forehead rested against yours. She was breathless, her eyes still heavy-lidded as they locked onto yours. Her hands were still on your hips, holding you against her.
Vi looks at you, a wide, soft smile spreading across her face as she leans her head back against the door, her hands moving upward, tracing the curve of your back slowly. Her fingertips brush against the zipper of your dress, playing with it absentmindedly as she lets out a breathy laugh.
“I think I’m doing this out of order…” she murmurs.
Your brows knit together slightly, still dazed from the kiss.
“Out of order?” you echo, your voice quieter than you intended.
Vi nods, her gaze drifting back to your lips as if they we drawn there magnetically.
Her smile turns almost sheepish, but the heat in her eyes doesn’t fade as she mutters quietly, “Yeah… ‘was supposed to ask you out on a date first.”
The words make your stomach flip, and before you can respond, she keeps going. Her voice softens, a little lower, as if she’s painting a picture just for you.
“I would’ve asked you where you’d like to eat… something casual, nothing too fancy. Then I’d pick you up, you’d wear something pretty for me, and I’ll take you somewhere nice. Not here,” she says with a small grin, “somewhere quiet, somewhere where I could actually talk to you without interruptions.”
Her hands are wandering now, sliding slowly down your sides, then up again, the warmth of her palms seeping through the thin fabric of your dress. One of her thumbs brushes against your ribcage, close to the underside of your breasts, her touch gentle but enough to make your breath hitch.
You’re barely holding onto her words as her hands move, but she keeps talking, her tone calm and almost hypnotic.
“Maybe, take you to this little Italian place I like. Not too crowded, but the food’s incredible. Candlelit, y’know? Not to be cheesy, but I think you’d like it.”
Her hands drift down again, her thumbs skimming along the curve of your hips as she keeps her voice low and steady.
“We’d get some wine—unless you’d rather have water, of course,” she teases softly, her lips twitching into a smirk, “and then we’d just… talk. No distractions, no noise, just you and me.”
Her fingers glide back up, tracing the line of your spine.
“After dinner, maybe a walk somewhere. I dunno, a park, the waterfront… wherever you’d want to go. Just somewhere I could hold your hand and maybe steal a kiss, if you let me.”
You try to focus on her voice, but her hands are relentless, mapping your body like she’s trying to memorize every inch. Your breath catches when her fingers tease the short sleeve of your dress, her thumb brushing your shoulder.
“Then,” she continues, her eyes flicking to yours, “I’d walk you home, make sure you got inside safe. And maybe… maybe if I was lucky, you’d ask me to come in and... Well, I don’t wanna spoil it.”
Her lips curve into a lazy smile, her fingers halting just above the small of your back.
“That’s how it was supposed to go,” she says softly, her voice dripping with affection as her gaze locks onto yours.
Your heart pounds in your chest, your body warm and your mind spinning. It’s impossible to think straight when her hands are on you, her voice so low and inviting.
“So why haven’t you?” you ask softly, your voice almost a whisper.
You lean in closer, and Vi instinctively follows your lips, her breath brushing against them.
“Hm?” she hums, clearly distracted, her gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips.
“—asked me out yet?” you finish, your voice trembling slightly, the boldness of the question surprising even you.
Vi freezes for a fraction of a second, then her lips tug into a small, almost bashful smile. Without saying a word, she leans in and kisses you again, soft and lingering, her lips fitting against yours. After a moment, her mouth leaves yours only to trail a path down to your jaw, her lips brushing against your skin.
She pauses at the curve of your neck, pressing a slow kiss there before muttering against your skin, her voice husky and low, “You make me nervous, too.”
You feel her lips curl into a smile against your neck, like she knows exactly what kind of effect she’s having on you. Her hands tighten slightly on your waist, holding you as if she can feel the way your legs are threatening to give out beneath you.
You tilt your head slightly, giving her better access without even thinking, and she takes full advantage of it. Her breath is warm against your skin, and every kiss feels like it’s melting away whatever distance was left between the two of you.
“Vi…” you murmur, unsure if you’re trying to stop her or encourage her to keep going.
She pulls back just enough to look at you, her lips slightly parted, her cheeks faintly flushed.
“Yeah?” she asks, her voice quiet.
You don’t have an answer, not one you can articulate anyway. All you can do is stare at her, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure she can hear it. And then she smiles, a crooked, endearing smile that makes your stomach flutter in the best way.
Vi’s lips return to your neck, her breath warm against your skin. She lingers there, her mouth pressing gentle kisses to the curve of your throat, her hands holding your waist firmly as if to steady you. You feel her lips part, the faintest scrape of her teeth against your skin sending a shiver down your spine.
“V-Vi…” you whimper again, but your voice lacks conviction, too soft, too dazed.
And good god, her name sounds so good on your lips.
She hums in response, low and teasing, as her lips close over the sensitive spot she’s found, sucking lightly. The sensation sends a shiver through your entire body, and you grip the fabric of her shirt without thinking, your nails pressing into her shoulders as she kisses your neck.
Her hands slide up your back, keeping you close, and her lips move to a new spot, determined to leave another mark. You know you should stop her, that you’ll be left with marks you can’t easily explain, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
Her tongue traces over the freshly made hickey, soothing it before she moves lower, her lips brushing against your collarbone now. You feel lightheaded, completely consumed by her—her touch, her warmth, her scent, her hands, her lips.
“Vi…” you try again, but it comes out weaker than before, more like a plea than a protest.
She chuckles softly against your skin, the sound low and rumbling, and you feel her smile.
“Too much?” she asks playfully, though she doesn’t pull away.
You don’t answer. You can’t.
Instead, your fingers tighten against her shirt, and she takes it as permission to continue. Her lips find the hollow of your throat, her teeth grazing against the delicate skin there before she sucks lightly, her hands roaming lower to rest just above your hips.
By the time she finally pulls back, you’re breathless, your head spinning. Her lips are slightly swollen, her smile smug but tender as she looks at you.
“You’re gonna hate me when you see those,” she says softly, her fingers brushing lightly against your neck where her lips had been.
As soon as Vi pulls back, her lips curling into that smug, tender smile, you don’t think. You act. You grab her collar, pulling her down as you surge up to meet her lips, kissing her hard and desperate, pouring every pent-up feeling into that kiss.
Vi grunts softly against your mouth, low and rough, and it sends a thrill down your spine. Her hands, still gripping your waist, tighten possessively to keep you exactly where you are. You feel her smile against your lips for a moment before she kisses you back just as fiercely, her teeth grazing your bottom lip, her tongue brushing against yours in a way that makes your knees weak.
It’s almost overwhelming, the way she kisses you—like she’s been starving for you.
She breaks the kiss just long enough to push herself off the door, her hands sliding to your hips as she turns you around. Before you can even process what’s happening, your back hits the door with a soft slam, the wood rattling slightly behind you. Vi’s hands cage you in, one hand by the side of your head and the other on your hip, keeping you in place as she crashes her lips back onto yours.
She kisses you like she’s claiming you, like she wants to make it crystal clear who you belong to. Her heart swells with pride as she imagines that guy you were with outside, seeing all those little bruises she left on your neck for everyone to see.
“You’re so pretty, baby,” Vi murmurs against your lips, her voice hoarse and ragged, before diving back in.
Her fingers slide underneath the hem of your dress, tracing the soft curve of your skin, sending a shiver up your spine. The moment her touch makes contact with the bare skin of your thighs, you gasp, the feeling of her fingers inching higher and higher, making your pulse race.
You can feel the way she presses in, her grip firm, as if she’s marking territory, staking her claim. She wanted you so bad. But she’s careful with you, and you can feel how she’s holding herself back just a little, the restraint making you ache for more. You know she wants you just as much as you want her—and you can’t help but be drawn deeper into her orbit.
Her hands reach up under your dress, the pads of her fingers tracing your lace panties and Vi shudders at the feeling. She can feel the dampness and warmth of you already and fuck, it drives her absolutely wild.
“You’re already wet, sweetheart,” she says, smiling against your neck proudly.
“V-Vi… Here?” You gasp into her ear.
She nods eagerly, eyes dazed as she looks at you, “Mhm.”
“B-But, someone might hear—“
“Then, you’ll keep quiet for me, won’t you, princess?” She purrs into your ear. “Can you do that?”
Your breath hitches at the way she says it, making your knees feel weak. You feel her smile against your skin, a sly curve of her lips that tells you she knows exactly what she’s doing to you.
“Hmm?” she hums, her thumb rubbing the center of your panties in soft circles, testing your reaction. She tilts her head slightly to catch your gaze. “Or are you gonna make it hard for me?”
You swallow, your heart pounding as you meet her gaze, your lips parting to answer, but nothing comes out. Instead, you nod, your breath hitching as her thumb presses your clit over the fabric of your panties.
She smiles, one hand coming up to fondle your breast. You whimper when she squeezes softly, enjoying the soft fullness in the palm of her hands.
“Tell me.”
You get lost in her stare, blue eyes telling you how much she wants you.
“I-I want you, Violet.”
Without wasting another second, Vi slips the hand that was under your dress and into your panties, her fingers immediately coming in contact with your soaking cunt, your folds slick with want. She hums in approval, and all you can do is nod again, biting down on your lip to keep from making a sound. Vi notices, her smirk widening as she leans in again, her lips trailing down your neck in a series of soft kisses.
“That’s my girl,” she whispers, her voice vibrating against your skin, making it impossible to focus on anything but her.
And when she slips a finger inside, you drop your head to her shoulder, trying to muffle your moan. Her finger immediately curls against your tight walls and you can feel your knees buckle as she thrusts her finger into you.
“Oh, V-Vi—“
She lifts her head up and kisses you on the lips, her tongue slipping inside with ease. She swallowed your moans as she whimpered into your mouth, her body trapping you between her and the door.
“You look… so good,” she murmured, voice hushed, her lips grazing your skin as she spoke. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
But then she adds another finger without any warning, her pace speeding up as you leaned your head back against the door behind you. You let your jaw fall when you feel her thrusting, and thrusting, and thrusting, and curling right into that spongy spot inside your pussy that made you moan.
“N-nh … A-Ah, fuck!” You gasp, unable to control your voice as she speeds up her fingers.
“Shh, shhhh, baby,” she murmurs against your lips, tilting her head as she watches you fall apart on her fingers. “Does it feel good, princess?”
“M-Mhm—ah—“
“Yeah?” You feel Vi smile on your lips.
Nodding your head, you whine, feeling your body grow weak the longer she fucked you.
“You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs against your neck, her voice low and husky.
Her fingers move quickly as they piston in and out of you, a soft squelching noise filling the empty room, teasing and testing your boundaries, gauging every reaction you give her. You could hear the low thrum of the music outside, playing in the lounge and in the bar, but you can barely begin to think about anything else other than the way Vi was making you feel, the way you were coming undone right in front of her.
“Look at you,” she whispers, her voice thick with adoration, “so pretty like this.”
Her free hand, the one that was fondling your tits, moves from your waist to cradle your face, her thumb brushing over your cheek as she leans in to kiss you deeply.
And holy fuck, you could feel it—how close you suddenly were.
You were sure Vi could feel it, too. She groans against your neck, head falling to your shoulder as she breathes you in, feeling your tight walls clench around her digits. You close. You were so damn close—
Then, Vi’s ears twitch—the sound of footsteps coming closer from behind the door.
She freezes. But only for a brief moment when she hears Mylo’s voice through the door, her body going taut as she glances at you. Your eyes widen, but Vi doesn’t pull away. Instead, a sly grin spreads across her face, her pupils blown wide as she looks at you.
Her lips find your ear, her words sending a shiver down your spine. “Stay quiet for me, yeah?”
And instead of stopping, her lips curl into a mischievous grin. Her fingers don’t falter, if anything she thrusted them faster into your wet pussy, her other hand moving quickly to cover your mouth as a quiet whimper escapes you, muffling all your delicious moans. You whimper against her mouth, eyes rolling back, not sure when you were going to cum. You felt so close—so fucking close.
“Shhh,” she whispers, her mouth brushing against your ear, her voice low and dripping with amusement.
From the other side of the door, Mylo’s voice comes again, confused but unconcerned. “Vi? You in there? You good?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she calls out, her voice steady, calm, like nothing at all is happening. “Just… needed a minute.”
You feel your face heat up as you struggle to stay composed, muffled against her palm, your eyes wide and pleading. But Vi’s gaze is locked onto yours as she continues to fuck you.
“Well, can you hurry up? The bar’s getting packed,” he says.
“Y-Yeah, I’ll be there!” Vi sighs as your legs begin to tremble.
Mylo grumbles something you can’t understand, footsteps retreating as he wanders off.
As soon as the sound of his steps fades, Vi lets out a low chuckle, finally removing her hand from your mouth. Her thumb brushes against your lips as she leans in close, her breath fanning your cheek. You were right around her fingers, and Vi couldn’t help but groan and press her thumb against your clit.
You jolt in her arms as you hold on to her shoulders for some leverage, trying to keep yourself steady, even though it felt like an impossible task. Vi groans when you clench, your soaking wet pussy dripping down your thighs, dripping onto her hand as she fingers you.
Vi could feel it on her fingers, slick and tight. How close you were—fuck fuck fuck. She moved faster and all you could do was hold on and cry into her shoulder.
“V-Vi, I—close—I’m—“
“You wanna cum? Yeah?” Vi whispers, using her body to press you against the door, fingers thrusting harder, deeper and faster. “Cum for me, baby.”
Then it crashes. Vi feels your body tense under her touch, your breaths coming faster as you gush around her fingers. She can see it in the way your hands clutch at her shoulders, the way your head tilts back slightly, lips parting as a soft, desperate mewl escapes your mouth.
But before that sound can grow louder, Vi’s lips crash onto yours, swallowing the moan that tries to escape. She doesn’t stop her fingers until you’re trembling in her arms. You melt against her, your body trembling, leaving you breathless and clinging to her, her strong arms and broad shoulders hold you up. Vi doesn’t pull back, keeping her lips on yours until she’s sure you’re done riding it out.
When she finally does break the kiss, her lips linger close, her forehead resting gently against yours. You’re panting softly, and she’s just smiling.
“Fuck,” she murmurs and you can feel her smirk against your skin as she presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.
Vi’s hand slows to a stop, pulling her fingers out of you slowly, her palm pressing flat against your thigh as she watches you. Her gaze is stuck on you, like she couldn’t believe what she’s seeing. The way your body trembles against hers, the soft flush of your cheeks, the way your lips part as you gasp for breath—it’s all too much and somehow not enough at the same time.
Her chest tightens as she leans her head forward against your shoulder. Vi wasn’t prepared for this—wasn’t prepared for you. And the thought crashes into her like a freight train: she’s falling hard. Maybe she already has.
She lifts her head up and he thumb absentmindedly brushes against your skin as you catch your breath. You’re leaning against her now, your head resting lightly on her shoulder, still dazed and glowing after your orgasm. Vi doesn’t even realize she’s staring, her lips slightly parted, her pupils blown wide with love.
She blurts it out without even thinking.
“So… dinner… Friday?”
Her ears burn as she watches for your reaction.
“I mean—” she starts, her voice faltering, unsure whether to backtrack or double down.
But when she glances down at you, still pressed against her, all she can do is grin sheepishly.
“You’re seriously asking me out… right now?” you say, lifting an eyebrow at her. Your voice is soft and teasing, but still a little breathless from everything that just happened.
Vi’s lips curl into a crooked grin, and she lets out a laugh that’s equal parts nervous and amused. She’s holding you up slightly, biceps flexing under her shirt, her hands resting lightly on your hips, her thumbs grazing the fabric of your dress like she’s afraid to let go.
“Yeah,” she says, her voice low but steady, her grin widening. “Is that a problem?”
You shake your head, narrowing your eyes at her like you’re trying to figure her out. You dart your eyes downward, glancing down at where her hands are on you, feeling the warmth of her touch through the thin fabric.
“Stupid,” you mutter under your breath.
You stare at Vi.
“Friday?” you ask softly, tilting your head slightly, your voice teasing her.
Vi nods again, more earnestly this time, her lips parting like she’s about to say something, but nothing comes out. Instead, she just looks at you, like she’s this big, lovesick puppy. And, if she had a tail right now, you’re pretty sure it would be wagging hard enough to knock over a chair or two.
“Friday,” she repeats.
She shifts on her feet slightly, her hands still resting on your hips, thumbs brushing tiny circles against the fabric of your dress. You bite back a laugh, your smile growing as you watch her, all nervous and excited.
“Okay,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
Vi’s entire face lights up, her crooked grin spreading so wide it makes her dimples appear.
“Yeah?” she says softly, and you nod, still smiling.
And then she stops, her eyes flickering to your lips one last time, but she doesn’t move any closer.
She’s waiting—patiently, sweetly—for you to close the gap if you want to. And it makes your heart ache a little because she’s trying so hard to hold herself back for your sake, even when you can tell it’s killing her.
But as soon as your eyes day to her lips and smile softly, her restraint crumbles. She leans in and kisses you, her hands tightening slightly on your hips. Vi’s heart feels like it’s about to burst out of her chest. She likes you—so much it scares her, so much she doesn’t know what to do with herself right now except kiss you harder.
You kiss her back with just as much intensity, your fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt to pull her even closer. You can feel the slight tremor in her hands where they grip your hips, sliding up slowly to your waist. She tastes like peppermint gum and something faintly sweet, and the way she kisses you makes your heart race so fast you’re surprised she can’t feel it through your chest.
Vi pulls back for just a moment, her forehead resting against yours as she exhales a shaky breath. Her lips are still parted, her eyes half-lidded as she looks at you, and she’s smiling—wide and boyish and so full of joy that it makes your chest tighten.
“I really, really like you.”
You laugh softly, your hand moving up to touch her jaw, your thumb brushing over her cheek where her tattoo is.
“I really, really like you, too,” you tease, your own voice a little shaky from how lightheaded you feel.
Vi grins, her dimples showing, and then she kisses you again, this time slower, softer, like she’s savoring it.
You cant think of anything else but her. The noise from the bar, the memory of whatever brought you here tonight—it’s all drowned out by the feeling of Vi’s lips on yours and the warmth of her hands on your waist.
And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself stop overthinking.
Vi feels like she’s floating, her chest so full it feels like she might burst. She likes you so much it almost hurts, and the way you kiss her back like you feel the same way makes her head spin. She pulls you just a little closer, her fingers slipping around your waist, and she can’t stop the quiet, breathless laugh that escapes against your lips. You smile into the kiss, your own heart thudding loudly in your chest.
If this is what liking Vi feels like, you think, you don’t ever want it to stop.
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ty for reading ! | navigation
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femmeroll · 4 days ago
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hiii, could you write something about sevika corrupting a sweet church girl?
your blog is really cute btw <3
omg omg omg !!! i’ve been dying to write something like this, thank you for the request!!
sevika x fem reader
cw: religion, corruption, implied age gap, fingering, semi-public.
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you’re a good girl. made good grades in school, good daughter, good sister, kind person. you never miss a sunday service. and if you must, you’ll be at the church for service on monday afternoon. you spend your life being pure, avoiding sin wherever it may rear its devilish head.
no pride or greed or lust. just simple, sweet purity.
that is, until you meet that lady.
every day on your walk home from mass you see her. maybe mid forties, dark hair, and easily six feet tall. she stands outside the deli every morning at 11:45 on the dot for her smoke break.
and every sunday morning she says hello, or good morning, or asks how ‘sunday school’ is going. it’s strange. you always give her a smile, say hello back, but she seems so condescending. like every word she says to you is secretly making fun of you.
you don’t really know her either, which is weird. it’s a small town, everyone knows each other. not…her thought. she’s just an impossibly rude person you see on sundays that causes you to remember the jesus was always kind to strangers.
it’s a cold january morning, sidewalks slick with ice. like clockwork, that woman is standing outside the deli with her cigar.
“careful, virgin mary. don’t want you slippin’ out here.”
okay, rude.
“i’m okay, no need to worry,” you respond, stopping in your tracks in front of her. the gaze she holds on you is almost uncomfortable. she’s staring down at you like she’ll burst out laughing at any moment. like the mere idea of you is just hilarious to her.
“sevika, by the way. my name.”
oh. sevika. okay.
“y/n. it’s nice to properly meet you. i’ve never seen you around outside of…this.”
“i’m not very social” she responds.
you smile. you certainly know the best way for people to find community in town.
“well, there’s a service on mon-”
she cuts you off with a scoff. “not interested. not the place for me.”
“why not?”
sevika leans closer, letting her lips fall near your ears.
“i like smoking, drinking, cursing, fucking. it’s not the place for me, princess.”
you clutch the cross around your neck with a gasp. this is wrong on so many levels. sinful, disgusting, unnatural…and yet you feel your face getting impossibly redder.
sevika stomps out her cigarette. “see you next sunday, princess.”
whether you like it or not, sevika evokes quite a bit of lust in you. her smirk, her piercing grey eyes, her muscles that stretch the fabric of her impossibly tight tshirt…you can’t help it. the forbidden fruit is strong. you suppose it’s all a part of the lord’s plan. send you a taste of homosexual temptation and watch you be a true follower.
you aren’t though.
you entertain her flirting, all her lustful stares, and your church dresses start to come above the knee just to give her something to look at. you don’t know why you like this so much. it’s gross. it’s wrong. it’s against god’s wishes.
but jesus christ, one look from sevika and that all goes out the window. every good christian moral, everything you’ve known to be true disappears the second sevika locks eyes with you.
after a monday evening service, you take your weekly stroll home. it’s dinner time, and sevika is working.
you open the door to the deli, seeing sevika behind the counter. you watch silently as she meticulously rearranges the meats on display.
“i could use some dinner, sevika” you say and she perks up, brief shock replaced with her signature smirk.
“princess. c’mon back, i’ll make you whatever sandwich you want.”
and she does. you’re sitting on a wooden stool in the back of the deli, making small talk. sevika’s presence feels strangely right, like these little moments were made to happen. maybe this was the lord’s plan after all.
sevika steps closer, towering over you.
“you have sauce on your lips. messy eater, huh princess?”
she takes her calloused thumb and wipes the sauce away, eyes never leaving yours. the air feels thicker and your face feels hotter. and without skipping a beat, your lips on on sevika’s.
she stammers a bit in shock, then immediately gaining back control. she wraps her hand around the back of your neck to pull you in deeper. you can feel her smirking against you, prying your lips apart and exploring the inside of your mouth with her tongue.
her lips feel like the missing piece of a puzzle, perfectly slotting against yours in a dance of passion and affection. she’s calculated with the way she kisses, making sure you feel every bit of her tongue gliding against your mouth.
“sevika-” you pant, pulling away. “we shouldn’t, i-it’s not right.”
“shush, princess,” she growls, “gods not watching right now.”
and maybe he’s not. so fuck it. you nod and let sevika pull your blouse off, pushing her head into your chest. she litters your chest in bites, reveling in the sweet moans you let out.
her hands make their way under your skirt, silently asking for permission to pull your slick panties down.
all you can do is nod, desperate and utterly dumb for her touch.
“so soft, princess…” she moans, “so wet. is that all for me?”
another nod.
“you gonna be a good girl?”
another nod.
sevika pulls hand away with an evil grin. “words. or you aren’t getting shit from me.”
“yes, it’s all for you. yes, i’ll be good. please hurry before i remember that i’m a woman of god and stop,” you groan.
her ring finger circles your swollen clit, spreading your folds and rubbing you down to your needy hole. one of her thick fingers is enough to stretch you out, walls tightening around her as she slowly moves in and out of your cunt.
“tight fuckin’ pussy…so pure and innocent, huh? just a good little church girl who likes other women fucking her greedy cunt?”
she chuckles darkly at herself, and at the way you get even tighter at her mean words. so humiliating, so blasphemous, so unholy. and yet every deep, deliberate thrust has you closer and closer to cumming.
“sevika,” you whimper, “i can’t hold it, please.”
“is that right?” she teases.
“you can cum, baby. but make sure to repent after.”
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grandline-fics · 9 months ago
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Shifting Focus
DESCRIPTION: The moment they began to see you differently
WARNINGS: None
CHARACTERS: Shanks, Kid, Smoker | Sanji, Law
WORDS: 2,850
A/N: Another part of this in honour of reaching 500 followers. This was my first time writing for Smoker so here's hoping you all enjoy!
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST
---------------
SHANKS
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Everyone knew Shanks was a flirt, a laidback charmer who always had a smile and a wink at the ready for the next pretty face he came across. No-one was meant to really take it seriously, to see anything that happened to be more than what it was, a fleeting moment of enjoyment for both sides. Serious feelings never truly came into play, it was easier that way given that he was always on the move. To let anyone believe he was the settling down type would have been cruel and he didn’t find any enjoyment in hurting people needlessly, unless they were his enemy of course. Everyone in the crew were more than used to his mannerisms, yourself included. You could understand his worldview on the matter however you never entertained him when he chose to flirt with you. Something that he finally started to notice and when he did, he couldn’t let it go. 
“Do I repulse you?” He asked suddenly one evening causing you to choke on your coffee. Your body tensed and you forced the liquid down your throat, wincing at the painful burn it caused and sharp tightness in your throat. You’d needed it to stay awake for your night shift but after that, you set the mostly untouched mug aside. Looking to your side you saw your captain staring at you intently, a small pout playing at his lips making you believe he was picking his words carefully to seem like he was keeping the conversation light. However underneath the joking you could tell there was a real question there. 
“If you repulsed me Cap, I wouldn’t have joined your crew, now would I?” You answered, looking back down to the sea chart in your hands, needing to keep track of any notable features coming into view. “What is it you really want to ask me?”
“I’ve noticed something about you.” Shanks began, scowling when you looked away from him to continue your work. You were always so task-oriented and levelheaded that even when you were joking with another member of the crew, you were still focused on what was needed to be done. Finally you looked up at Shanks again, eyebrows raised slightly to invite him to keep talking. “You don’t flirt back.” 
For a moment you had to think about what Shanks was getting at but finally you let out a laugh and lightly rolled your eyes. So he was in that kind of mood today. For a moment he almost had you by making you believe he was asking you a semi-serious question. Still smiling in amusement you shook your head and turned to go inside when a wind started to pick up. If you lost the charts in your hand it wouldn’t have been good. What you weren’t expecting was Shanks to follow you, with a sigh you settled down at your desk and sat back to stare at your captain who clearly wasn’t finished with this joke and you weren’t going to get any peace until you indulged him. “Am I being reprimanded for my lack of flirtation towards you, Cap? I’m surprised it’s affected you so much given how you’re never without company.”
“You flirt with the others on board.” Shanks pointed out, not really knowing why it was getting to him so much. Ever since he’d realised you’d joke around and tease the others on board but not him, it just kept gnawing at him. Shanks knew he shouldn’t get so irritated by it all but he just couldn’t help himself. He stepped closer until he was leaning of the edge of your desk, staring down at your calm expression. “So why not me?”
“I flirt with the others because it’s not serious and they know that.” You shrugged lightly, leaning back to regard your captain, a smile slowly pulling at your lips. “You, however are a different story, Cap.” With a breathy sigh you rose from your seat and Shanks’ earlier position meant you were now standing mere inches away from him, not quite touching but close enough for the warmth of your body to radiate into his. “If I gave in and flirted with you…I don’t think I’d be able to stop it as just a joke. I don’t have the same self-control that you do.” You murmured, tilting your head up slightly so your breath could softly dance against his skin. Satisfied that that should be enough for your Captain’s need for the joke to end you took a step back and grinned before sitting down at your desk. 
With your presence no longer engulfing his, Shanks blinked and immediately wanted more. More of that rush, that spark, more of you. However fate had other plans when Lucky Roux called for him and he had to do his duties as the Captain. Sharply letting out a huff of annoyance, Shanks reluctantly left your side to head onto the deck. When he reached the doorway, he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder and see your attention already drawn back to your work. Yeah, this was far from over.  
KID
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There was never a dull moment on the Victoria Punk. Even on the calm days at sea, the heavy steps of the Captain and the usual tone of conversation was carried at a volume louder than some other ships were used to. But that was what you liked about it. It was only when the ship was deathly quiet outside of sleeping hours that any of you felt the need to worry. The seas were calm and laughter surrounded you all as you sat in the living quarters with plenty of drink to see you all through to morning if you wanted. 
Currently you were all playing a game with the bounty posters you’d all seemed to collect. It was a simple enough form of ‘Kiss, Marry, Kill’ by selecting three posters from the pile however each person that had to answer ended up getting drawn into a fierce debate about their answers. If you didn’t want to answer on your turn however, you had to drink. It was an empty punishment since all of you were drinking happily regardless. 
“Look I stand by my answer okay?!” Wire shouted, unable to keep the grin from his face knowing the argument was in good spirits. “I had the worst draw out of them all so far, you guys have been getting it easy.”
“Just hurry up and pick my three okay?” You grinned, sitting up from your lounged position to get a better look for your turn. Wire reached over to the pile of posters lying face down on the table and picked three at random, slowly flipping them over to reveal Blackbeard, Franky, and Bartolomelo. Grinning you sat back down into your previous position. “Kiss Bartolomelo, Marry Franky, Kill Blackbeard. Easy.”
“Not that I’d argue with the decisions, you just made up your mind so quickly…” Killer noted, a grin in his voice as his face remained hidden by his mask. You rolled your eyes and grinned. 
“Nothing to think about, Blackbeard is…ugh” you suppressed a shudder at the mere thought of the Emperor. “Franky is dependable and skilled, and fun from what we saw when we allied with them so marrying him wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
“You didn’t think about Bartolomelo as marriage material?” Kid asked with a grin and you laughed up at your Captain who you’d been leaning against for a majority of the night. 
“No way, he’s a major Strawhat fanboy. I’d be competing against that entire crew for his attention, sadly we just weren’t meant to be.”
“Yeah, you’re real heartbroken about it I see.” Kid laughed along with you and the others. The game continued for another while, some of the crew stopping from being too drunk to stay awake while others began to head for their quarters. Those remaining all agreed this would be the last round and it meant you were to deal out three posters for Kid. 
You were still far too comfortable lounging against your Captain so you quickly reached over, fumbling you flipped over the first three you could get your hands on and flopped back before even seeing who he had to choose from. From the sound of the stifled laughter you could tell his options were going to be good. With an anticipated grin you turned on your side and pushed yourself up with your elbow only to become surprised to see your bounty on the table along with Buggy the Clown and Nico Robin. You couldn’t help but become curious about what your Captain would pick about you although you supposed as long as he didn’t pick you to kill it was all fine, it was just a game after all. 
Kid suddenly felt tense and couldn’t help but look away from your printed face to the physical version of you. The you he suddenly became all too aware of. You’d been part of the crew forever and he’d never needed to see you as anything other than a valued member like the others. What if he said something that made you uncomfortable. But if he didn’t play then you could misread that too and make things worse. Fuck, why was he overthinking this? He had to finish the game and hope nothing more was said about it. “Kill the clown and kiss Robin.” He muttered quickly before looking away and draining the last of the alcohol in his mug. 
“Aww you wanna marry me?” You cooed, the smile growing wider on your face. With everyone satisfied with a good ending to the game, the crew began to clear up their drinks and the bounty posters and move to turn in for the night. You got up with a groan and stretched out your arms, finally feeling the need to rest too. With a yawn you turned to Kid who was still sitting and smiled softly. “Not heading to bed, Kid?”
“Yeah, heading soon.” He grumbled lost in his own thoughts that were now occurring to him and you tilted your head, a frown falling on your lips. Quickly Kid realised you were going to worry and he recovered enough to smirk at you. “We need our rest, right? We’ve got a wedding to plan huh?” He forced the joke out, relieved to see you laugh and leave while wishing the rest in the room goodnight. When you were gone, Kid glared at Killer who was sitting far too relaxed for his liking. “When did you add their bounty to the pile, Kil?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about and you have no way of proving it.” 
SMOKER
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“Vice Admiral?” You paused in the middle of the G-5 Base corridor when you spotted the base commander leaning against the wall with his office just a few feet away. At the sound of your call he made no sign that he’d heard you. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for someone of his rank to get lost in thought especially if there were certain higher ups breathing down their neck or certain pirates occupying their minds. Adjusting the documents in your hands you approached the base commander. “Vice Admiral Smoker?” You asked again and moved to lightly touch his arm to get his attention. 
At the same time, Smoker turned sharply and knocked into your hand causing you to drop your files in surprise. As the papers fluttered to the floor you kept your gaze on Smoker, concern growing in your eyes. His usual steely gaze seemed to have dimmed and you noticed the small tremor in his otherwise imposing frame. As one of the base’s medical staff your critical, scrutinising stare was pinpointing all that stood out to you. Since you were dealing with the commander himself, you felt you had to be somewhat nicer and couldn’t just order him to rest. “Are you sick?” You asked and immediately his stare sharpened at the implication. 
“I’m fine.” Smoker’s answer was gruff as to be expected but you could hear the slight shake that could have been missed had you not been listening out for it. When he saw you weren’t fooled he finally took a proper look at you and through his mind that was getting foggier by the second he managed to recognise who you were and what department you worked for on the base. Inwardly he cursed his bad luck. He’d been trying to get to the safety of his office but a dizzy spell hit him hard and he had to stop to catch his breath just mere seconds before you’d approached him. Smoker didn’t want to be babied, getting sick was a rarity for him. He just wanted to get to his room and sit there in peace until he felt a little better. No one else had noticed his state all day, why did he get cursed with bad luck like this at the final moment? He just needed to get rid of you before you tried to take a closer look at him. “Aren’t you going to pick up your documents?”
“Well since you're not sick and are partly responsible for me dropping them. You can surely help me lift them, right Vice Admiral?” Your question was so sweet and innocent but still Smoker glared at the challenge in your eyes. In any of his previous interactions with you, you’d seemed so reserved and quiet but now he could see another side to you. With a grunt, Smoker lowered himself to the floor, trying to fight the wave of dizziness and aches rolling down his body. Mentally he cursed you as you smoothly crouched down and started collecting sheets at a pace far faster than he was able to. When Smoker was focused on the task you’d given him, you struck. Your hand touched his forehead before he could react and you scowled at the man in disapproval. “You’re burning up with a fever. You’re going to your room and resting.” 
Your order left no room for disagreement and before Smoker’s mind could truly catch up, he found himself walking into his room with you. When he was lying on his bed you set about gathering what was needed to help his fever and aches before making yourself comfortable at his desk to fix the scattered documents into their right files again. From the small layer of dust gathering on the surface you could tell Smoker didn’t use it much, being a man of action over paperwork. “You don’t need to stay, I’m fine.” Smoker grumbled. 
“The second I leave, you’ll rest for an hour at most and call yourself cured. I’m not leaving until I’m happy you’re actually fine.”
“An hour is all I need.”
“Didn’t know you had a medical degree.” You noted dryly. “Do I call you Doctor Vice Admiral Smoker or Vice Admiral Doctor Smoker?” It surprised you when Smoker’s deep laugh rumbled through the air and a small smile graced your lips at the sound. Perhaps he should laugh more, it was a nice sound and it would help make him more approachable to some people. 
“You can call me whatever you want.” Smoker mumbled, it wasn’t often people stood up to him like this and he had to admit it was refreshing to see. Unable to fight it, Smoker yawned as his body was beginning to give in to its need for rest. When you heard the telltale signs of him falling asleep you let out a sigh of relief that the medicine you’d given him was started to take effect. 
In the early hours of the morning, Smoker stirred at the soft feeling of fingers lightly running through his hair. It was a comforting feeling and still under the haze of sleep that hadn’t fully left him, his mind hadn’t properly caught up so he let himself relax into the feeling. Reaching up he curled his fingers around your wrist holding your hand in place as his eyes slowly opened and met your face. 
“Your fever’s finally regulated.” You informed him gently, keeping mindful of the time and not wanting to speak too loudly. “If you promise to drink more fluids and stay in bed until at least late morning I can leave.”
“I promise, thanks Doc.” Smoker mumbled with a half-smile, stifling a small yawn and letting his eyes fall closed again but when he didn’t hear you leave he opened his eyes again to see you still standing there. “Problem?”
“Um, kinda need my hand back…or did you want me to stay?” you laughed softly, trying to hold back the grin when Smoker tensed and quickly let go of your wrist, allowing you to leave. “Remember your promise.” You reminded him as you left, smiling to yourself as you left to your room with the memory of Smoker’s blushing, embarrassed expression fresh in your mind. You had to admit it was pretty cute to see. 
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mystic-writings · 9 months ago
Text
just a twisted ankle | newt
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PAIRING – newt x fem!reader
REQUEST – @heliads - hi monty!! saw you wanted some newt requests so i simply could not hold back. could i please request a newt x reader fic in which newt and reader are both track-hoes and obviously in love with each other but pining in silence? alby and minho are doing their best to get them together but they're both excruciatingly oblivious lmao. thank you so much!!
SUMMARY – you and an overly protective newt are in love. the only problem seems to be that everyone but you and him are aware of it.
WARNINGS – weird behavior, obliviousness, fluff, semi-crack?, friends to lovers, minor injury
WORD COUNT – 3,031
NOTES – AAAA this has been in my requests for forever and i’m just now writing it?? i absolutely loved writing this and a big big thanks to @shmaptainwrites for being my lovely beta reader!
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There were very few downsides to being a Track-hoe. You enjoyed being outdoors all day, breathing in the fresh air and the amazing smell of fresh plants, chatting with your fellow track-hoes and generally enjoying yourself. 
The main issue you had was the dirt. 
Sure, it was essential to your job, but it was the worst possible thing about it. You didn’t even mind the sweat and aching muscles most of the time, because that just meant a job well done. But the dirt? If you could plant and grow things without it, you would. The way it stuck to your clothes, your skin. How it buried itself into your pores and underneath your fingernails and took forever to scrub off your skin. 
The biggest upside, however, was Newt. 
You’d been here almost 2 years, and he was quite possibly your favorite person in the Glade. He was the first person besides Alby to reach out and connect with you, not really caring or fearing the fact that you were, and still are, the only girl. Minho was the second person to do the same. 
Newt, over time, had become your biggest confidant about almost everything. You spent pretty much all of your spare time with him, and he with you. After long days, you’d take the time after dinner to walk around the Glade. Sometimes you’d talk, and sometimes you’d just enjoy one another’s presence. Everyone knew not to mess with you, and the Greenies that didn’t usually learned their lesson pretty quickly. 
You liked to call him your protector with a smile, mostly because he’d always flush bright red at the compliment. 
It’d been a few days since the box came up, and the newest Greenie, Jason, was still getting his bearings around the Glade. He’d only learned his name yesterday, and that was after he threw up watching Winston show him how the slicers do their jobs. Today, he was with you and the other Track-hoes. 
He’d been mostly hovering near Zart and Newt, who were showing him the ropes. You, however, caught him glancing over at you a few too many times. It was normal for a Greenie, and for you, since you were the only girl. But it didn’t stop you from feeling slightly uncomfortable. 
Jason had been staring at you — as Zart was showing him how to de-weed the vegetables — until Newt clapped him on the shoulder. Faintly, you could hear them talking. 
“Stop staring, mate. Focus on the job.” Newt said, his tone laced with that all-too-familiar protectiveness. It made you smile, the way his eyes pierced into Jason’s and struck him with a fear he seemed to make all the Greenies feel when it came to you. 
After a while, you felt Jason resume his staring, even after Newt’s ‘warning’. You knew that he’d learn sooner or later, you just hoped it was the latter. While you were digging up some carrots, knowing it would take you forever to clean under your fingernails before dinner, Newt’s shadow blocked your view of the sun, forcing you to look up at him.
“Come on,” he nodded to the deadheads. “Zart said we need more fertilizer.” 
Extending a hand upward, Newt pulled you to your feet before handing you the second bucket. As you departed from the gardens, you swung the empty bucket and sighed. “I don’t know why he never just sends one of us. There’s no way this is a two person job.” 
“I’ve stopped questioning Zart,” Newt shrugged. “He’s the Keeper, what he says, goes. That’s all.”
Contemplating Newt’s words, you looked up at the leaves for a moment and tripped on a root. Newt barely caught you as you lurched forward, both buckets landing on the forest floor. “Besides, I think if you tried to do this yourself, you’d trip and break your neck.” 
“Well,” you exaggerated a sigh, “can’t have that, can we?”
Newt shook his head, grabbing the buckets. “No, we can’t.” 
After making it to the fertilizer pile and back with no further injury, the day carried on as normal. Newt and Zart continued training and carefully watching the Greenie to see if he was exactly up for the job of Track-hoe. 
By the time the dinner bell rang, you were exhausted. You felt like this most days, but today you had to devote more energy than usual on making sure the Greenie wasn’t staring at you as if you’d solve all of his problems just by talking to him. 
You and Newt took off at the same time, chatting about the Greenie and whether he was good for the Track-hoes or not. “I hope not,” you groaned. “He keeps staring at me. He’d spend more time looking at me than doing his actual job if he got put with us.”
“I know,” Newt chuckled. “I spent the day with the poor shank. You have no idea how many times I had to divert his attention back to his work, it was unbelievable.”
You shook your head. “Trust me, I know. I could feel him staring at me all damn day.” 
The dining hall was already pretty full of Gladers, milling about or grabbing food or sitting down. Quickly, you could smell Frypan’s beef stew wafting from the pots on the table. Your stomach suddenly felt empty, and you couldn’t wait to pour yourself a bowl. You and Newt moved in tandem, pouring out soups into your own bowls from ladles hooked on the edge of the metal pots and grabbing cups of water from the table beside you. 
Minho was already sitting at your usual table, peacefully eating his soup amid the usual chaos. Joining him, you and Newt sat across from him, digging into your food. Minho usually ate in silence, with the exception of joking around when the others got to the table, so you didn’t mind listening to the din of the conversations happening around you for a little while.
Soon, Frypan joined Minho’s side of the table, already boasting about how well received the stew was. Just as he was about to ask how everyone liked it, and as you were spooning more into your mouth, Jason approached your and Minho’s end of the table. 
“Hi.” He said, entire body stiff, as if unclenching his muscles would make him disappear. 
“...Hello?” You replied. “Is there something you need, Greenie?”
Jason laughed, but it sounded more like he was choking. “No, no. I just— I, um, I was wondering—”
“Cool it, slinthead,” Minho interrupted. “You’re not going to get anywhere with Y/n, here. She and Newt are practically married, even if they don’t know they are.”
With a disgruntled air around him, Jason admitted defeat and left the table to go find somewhere to eat his dinner. 
You furrowed your brows at Minho. “Me and Newt aren’t married, what the shuck was that all about?”
As if things couldn’t get worse, Gally stepped up to the table on Newt’s other side. “Are we talking about you and Newt? Have you finally gotten your clunk together and started dating? Because I’ve been waiting for this for almost two years.” 
“Nah,” Frypan said. “They’re too scared to admit something like that, Gally. You know that.” 
“Yeah, and it’s getting on all of our nerves.” Minho said. “It irritates me more than the Newbies do.”
“Could you stop talking about us like we’re not here?” Newt snapped. “It’s really annoying.” 
The group exchanged looks and you couldn’t help but smile. The rest of the dinner passed, and soon Alby joined you at Frypan’s side. The conversation flowed, as per usual, and you were able to let go of the pain your joints carried as you went back for a second helping and relaxed with your friends until sundown. 
It was no surprise that Newt left when you did in order to walk you back to your room in the Homestead, where he bid you goodnight and headed to his own just down the hall. Just as he reached the door, though, he turned back and walked over to you. 
“Just letting you know,” he began, “The Greenie’s staying on as a track-hoe tomorrow. Alby doesn’t want him doing a trial as a Medjack just yet. But I won’t be there either. Me and Gally have to be in the council hall tomorrow to talk with some of the other Keepers about scheduling. Stay safe, please.” 
You giggled. “Don’t worry, Newt, I’ll be just fine. The most that Greenie’s gonna do is stare at me, and I can’t die from something like that. Plus, I’ll have Zart and the other Track-hoes with me for the day.”
He sighed, almost reluctant to go most of the day without you. “I’ll see you at breakfast then?”
“Yes, you will.” You nodded. “And dinner. Now go to sleep, Newt.” 
With another goodnight, you and Newt headed into your respective rooms to settle in and go to bed, an unusual day ahead of you.
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Despite waking up and starting your day with Newt as you usually would, it felt odd to split from him after Frypan served breakfast. It felt odd to not turn to him for casual conversation as you de-weeded the tomatoes and harvested carrots for tonight’s dinner — some sort of fried rice, you remember Frypan telling you at dinner last night. 
Your day passed in relative silence aside from occasional chatter with the track-hoes or receiving orders from Zart. You avoided Jason as best as you could, and it seemed his embarrassment from last night still lingered as he was determined to stay on the opposite side of the field, despite still staring at you when he got the chance. 
Sometime near the end of the day, you’d run out of fertilizer, and as usual Zart had sent you with both buckets to refill them. The trek was definitely boring without Newt to talk to, but you managed to fill both buckets and head most of the way back without incident, injury, or going crazy in the silence of the deadheads. 
However, your luck was bound to run out at some point. 
Just as the rays of sunshine were poking out from the field ahead, you tripped on a particularly large tree root sticking out of the ground. Both buckets flung from your hands as you stuck them out, attempting to break your own fall. Pain radiated from your ankle, palms, and wrists as you landed harshly on the ground, staining your clothes and skin with dirt. 
After you processed what happened and pulled yourself up, you first inspected your palms. Wiping away the dirt, several scrapes and cuts revealed themselves, accompanied by irritated and angry skin surrounding them. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you tried your best to stand, but crumbled when you put weight on your right foot. 
Hissing, you pulled up your pant leg and tried to touch around the area, only bringing yourself more pain as you did so. Figuring out how to get out of here was going to be difficult, especially without abandoning the buckets of fertilizer. After some time, you managed to find a particularly large stick to support the weight you would’ve put on your injured foot, hooked one bucket handle on the crook of your elbow, and took the other in your free hand. 
As best as you could manage, you brought the fertilizer to Zart, who quickly took notice of your condition. 
“What the shuck happened to you?!” He exclaimed as you shifted your weight. 
Looking down at your foot, you sighed. “A large tree root got the jump on me, Zart. Now will you please help me to the Medjacks so I don’t have to use this shucking stick anymore?”
Almost jumping into action, Zart wrapped an arm around your torso and pulled your right one around his neck, helping you along to the other side of the Glade. You were beginning to see now why he usually sent Newt with you. 
Upon reaching the Medjack hut, Clint and Jeff took over for Zart, ushering him away to get back to work. You were grateful for the Medjacks and the care they seemed to take with you. They made sure it was relatively painless for you as Clint examined your ankle and Jeff cleaned the cuts on your palms, keeping casual conversation with you as they did so. 
It was only as Clint was wrapping your ankle — Jeff already having done so with the heels of your palms — that Newt came barrelling into the room. 
“We were wondering where you were,” Jeff quipped as he put away the roll of gauze he’d just used. 
Newt ignored the other two people in the room and came to sit on the edge of your bed. “What the bloody hell happened to you?”
“It’s not like I almost died, Newt.” You told him, but let him take your hands into his to look at. “I was getting the fertilizer from the deadheads and tripped on a root. It’s nothing more than a twisted ankle, I promise.”
“You promised you’d be fine today without me.” Newt corrected you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. 
“And I was. I just lost my footing to a root. I’ll be back up and running in a few days. Right, Clint?”
The boy at the end of the bed nodded, taping the tensor bandages into place. “Exactly. After three days of no work and constant elevation, you’ll be just fine.”
Newt looked back at the boy. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am.” Clint said. “I’ll even have Jeff come check up on her twice a day to make sure her foot heals. Okay?”
Newt considered Clint’s words for a moment before nodding. “Alright.” 
Soon enough, the Medjack’s left you and Newt alone in the treatment room. It was silent, and Newt still held your bandaged hands in his, not daring to say a word. 
“Are you okay?” You asked eventually, feeling that you’d studied the boy’s face enough to gather that he was still deeply upset and in thought. 
Newt’s eyes snapped from your hands to make eye contact with you, and you could see the emotion pooling in his dark irises. “I dunno. I know it’s stupid, you’ll be fine, but… you were hurt. On the one day I wasn’t there with you.”
Turning your hands over in his, you grabbed his palms and squeezed. “But I’ll be fine, Newt. Look, I’m still healthy, aren’t I? Breathing, talking. That’s what matters. And it’s not your fault, it was just a silly accident.” 
“I know, I just… the thought of you getting hurt makes me want to go crazy.” Newt admitted. “You being safe is all I care about.” 
Your heart stuttered in your chest as your face warmed. “I… I didn’t know it meant that much to you.” 
“You do.” Newt stated. “You mean that much to me.” 
“Newt…” you whispered. “I think those slintheads were right.”
His face scrunched up. “What d’you mean?”
“I think… I think I like you. A lot more than I realized.” You gathered more courage with every word you spoke. “Newt… I think I’m in love with you.” 
You watched his eyes widen as you spoke, hands still interlocked. Newt seemed to be stunned by your impromptu confession, and even you were surprised by it. Up until ten seconds ago, you were unaware of how big your feelings for Newt were, but now that they were out in the open, it was easy to see as you looked back on things. Your thoughts ran at a hundred miles a second, flashing with the memories you made with Newt and how close you’d gotten over the past few years.  
It took you a second to pull away from the memories and realize that Newt had yet to respond. 
“Newt?” You called out, trying to get his attention. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Look, we don’t have to do anything about it, we can forget it ever happened—”
“No.” Newt interrupted. “I don’t want to do that.” He adjusted his grip on your hands, stroking your knuckles with his thumbs. “I… I love you, too. I think I have from the moment I met you.” 
Your lips stretched into a wide, blissful smile, and Newt’s expression soon matched yours. Slowly, he leaned in closer to you, shortening the distance until his lips were inches from yours. 
“Can I kiss you?” He whispered.
“I’d like nothing more,” you told him, and in seconds, his lips were on yours and your hand was touching the back of his neck and you were both in a state of bliss you could only dream of until now. 
You spent the next few hours with Newt, who sat next to you on the bed with an arm around your shoulders, talking mostly about how you both failed to notice your feelings toward each other for so long, occasionally disrupted by mini-makeouts. When the dinner bell rang, Newt promised to explain your injury to your friends and bring dinner for you both to eat in the Medjack hut. 
When Newt came back, two steaming bowls of chicken rice in hand, the blush on his face was unmistakable. 
“What happened?” You laughed as he passed you the bowl and sat on the bed. “What did they say to you?”’
“They didn’t say anything.” Newt corrected you. “They heard about my hauling ass across the Glade to get here from the council hall, that’s what. And they basically figured us out.” 
“Really?” You fake gasped. “It’s like they’ve been trying to tell us about this for the past two years or something.”
“Ha, ha,” Newt rolled his eyes. “Eat your rice. After you’re finished, I’ve got to take you to the Homestead.” 
“My hero,” you smiled, and Newt couldn’t help but to kiss you once more before you both dug into your meals. 
Once your ankle was healed, it was no surprise the uproar your friends caused when you were finally able to walk to breakfast hand in hand with Newt. After all, they had been waiting years for this.
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mwahsturns · 1 month ago
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Make you mine ୨୧
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Sub!reader x Matt Sturniolo
Contains: Smut, swearing, basically porn, A lot of praise, pet names (baby, good girl), unprotected sex, big dick!matt, p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, face cum. - Semi-proof read! I think that’s all?
Synopsis: You went to your best friend’s house earlier that morning, you’re currently spending the night at Matt’s house and told him you’d be back later. You ended up staying late as you lost Track of time. You come home late very exhausted, to see Matt still awake at his computer and he asks you to make it up to him…
authors note: yall this one is freaky so grab your rose toy and some Pepsi and enjoy the ride 🤭
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You walk into Matt’s room exhausted excepting him to be asleep, you walk into the room to see him on his computer. ‘Hey baby’ i say putting down my bag by the side of his bed. He turns around in his seat, a small smile forming as he sees me coming in ‘Hey...’he responds, his voice a bit husky from being up late, ‘Where have you been all night?’ I chuckled at his voice, he sounded sleepy and I could tell.
‘Madi’s house’ I said taking off my boots. ‘Madi's house, huh?’ he nods, his eyes lingering on me for a moment before looking back at his computer screen. ‘You look tired...’ he comments, his tone a bit softer now. ‘Did you guys have a lot of fun?’ I smile at him softly. ‘yeah but i missed u’ I walk up to him taking out my earrings.
His expression softens, and he closes his laptop, giving me his full attention. ‘You missed me, huh?’ He asks, trying to suppress a smile. ‘Even though you were out with your friends?’ I nod sitting on his lap as he sits on the gaming chair. He wraps his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder. ‘I missed you too, baby.’ He sighs contently, holding me close. ‘You know, I was starting to think you forgot about me.’
‘I could never..’ I smile staring into his eyes. He lifts his head up, looking into my eyes with a small smile. ‘Never, huh?’ He asks, his voice low and soothing. ‘Good, because I couldn't bear the thought of you forgetting about me.’ He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. ‘Matt i know you hate going but would you pretty please come with me to Tara’s party tomorrow’ I smile hoping he gives in.
He raises an eyebrow, trying not to let his discomfort show too obviously ‘babe a party..’ He shifts slightly, still keeping me on his lap ‘You know how I feel about those things my love.’ I start thinking of ways to convince him… What most people don’t know is Matt loves anything physical in his relationships so it’s normal for us to be hugging holding hands …. Fucking a lot so I knew the perfect way to get him to go.
‘I’ll give you a blow job if you go’ I smile. his eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and temptation crossing his face ‘Well...’ he chuckles softly ‘When you put it that way...’ he runs a hand through my hair ‘What time do we have to leave?’ a playful smirk forms on his lips. ‘7 a clock at night I’m pretty sure’ I think about the text me and Tara shared earlier. 7 at night..." he sighs dramatically but there's a glint in his eyes ‘Alright, I'll do it... but only because you promised...’ he pulls me closer, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips ‘You better keep your word, gorgeous.’
I laugh, ‘I’m going’ I smile getting on my knees. He watches as you get on my knees, his smirk growing wider. ‘Mmm, I'm counting on it...’ he spreads his legs slightly, giving me better access as he leans back in the chair. ‘Come on then, baby...’ I undo his belt slowly I smirk pulling his pants and boxers down ‘still big..’ His ego swells slightly as i check out his size, his hands finding their way into my hair. ‘You like that?’ He asks, his voice dropping an octave, knowing the answer already. ‘You always act so surprised...’
‘because you’re just so big baby..’ I smile staring at his dick. ‘you always say that...’ He chuckles softly, his manhood twitching with anticipation as i stare at it. ‘You make it sound like it's too much...’ He spreads his legs wider, giving me better access. ‘Too much?? Never.’ He smiled ‘Put that pretty mouth to good use, baby.’ I smile “anything for you Matthew..” I smirk kitty licking his tip. ‘Fuck..." He hisses through gritted teeth as i lick his tip, his hips bucking slightly. ‘You're such a good girl, aren't you?’ He praises, his voice thick with desire. ‘So eager to please your man...’
I nod licking the side of his cock. ‘Fuck... that feels amazing...’ His breathing becomes heavier as he watches me work. ‘Show me how much you missed me... show me how good you can be...’ He guides my head down slightly, helping me take more of him. ‘That's it, baby... just like that...’ I hallow my cheeks sucking him, He pants, his hips lifting off the chair as i hollow your cheeks around him. ‘You take it so much better than anyone else...’ He moans, his fingers tightening in your hair, I pull off spitting on his cock then deep throating him again.
‘Fuck yes!’ He groans deeply as you spit and take him deep again ‘You're so fucking filthy... I love it...’ His hips thrust forward, meeting my rhythm ‘Keep going baby, just like that...’ He pants heavily, his body tense with pleasure. I gagged taking as much as I could handle. His eyes roll back in his head, voice breaking as he feels me deepthroat him completely ‘How... how do you even...’ He pants heavily, fingers shaking in my hair ‘That's so fucking hot...’ He moans deeply. I moan against him the slide up sucking his tip.
He lets out a guttural growl at the sensation, hips bucking slightly ‘You're killing me... fuck, why are you so perfect...’ His fingers trace along your jawline as i suck his tip ‘Such a gorgeous mouth... made for this...’ I moan continuing my pace. ‘Oh god, that sound...’ His voice is thick with lust ‘Can't get enough of it...’ His free hand reaches down, stroking your hair and cheek gently ‘Look up at me, baby...’ His voice has that irresistible soft tone.
I pull off smiling “I want you to cum on my face..”He stares at you, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of your face covered in saliva ‘Fuck, you're something else...’ He grabs his dick, stroking it quickly as he watches you ‘I'm gonna cum all over your pretty face baby...’ I close my eyes and stick my tongue out. He moans loudly, his hand moving faster as he watches me prepare for his load. He unleashes a thick, hot load of cum all over my face, coating my skin, hair, and tongue in his seed ‘fuck baby..’ I take it off my eyes and open them. He stares at me, taking in the sight of his cum dripping down my face ‘Damn, you look even prettier like this...’ He gently runs his fingers through the sticky strands of hair on my face ‘My little messy angel...’
I wipe it off my face with my fingers and lick it off. He watches me lick his cum off my fingers, his dick already starting to twitch again ‘Fuck, you're insatiable... I think I'm addicted to you’ He pulls me up and crushes his lips against mines, tasting himself on my tongue. He breaks the kiss, panting ‘Need you... now...’ He roughly grabs me and pushes me up against the nearest wall, pressing his body against mine ‘Want to fuck you so hard...’ His hands roam over my body possessively ‘You ready for me?’ I immediately take my hoodie off and pants off. He looks me up and down, his eyes dark with lust ‘Fuck, you're gorgeous...’ He quickly pulls his shirt off and tosses it aside, revealing his toned chest and abs ‘Gonna fuck you so hard, baby...’
I nod biting my lip jumping into his arms and tongue kissing him, He catches me easily, one hand grasping my ass while the other tangles in my hair as he devours my mouth in a fierce kiss. His hardening cock presses against my stomach. He growls against my lips and carries you over to the bed, throwing me down onto it. ‘Spread those legs for me baby...’ I nod spreading them. He climbs onto the bed between your legs, positioning himself at your entrance .
‘You're so wet...’ He teases my opening with the head of his cock ‘Ready for me to stretch that tight little pussy?’ I nod, as he did not hold back. A wicked grin spreads across his face and he slams his hips forward, burying himself deep inside me in one thrust. ‘Like that, baby?’ He begins to pound into me mercilessly, his hips moving at a brutal pace ‘Gonna fuck you until you can't walk straight..’ I moan softly. ‘’Matt’ He leans down, sucking at my neck as he continues to hammer into me.
‘So tight and wet... Fuck, you feel amazing...’ He grabs my legs and throws them over his shoulders, changing the angle and going even deeper ‘Take it all, baby...’ my body slightly shakes. ‘mmph- Matt’ I moan, His pace quickens at the sound of his name on my lips. ‘Yeah, baby? Say my name again... while I'm fucking that sweet pussy...’ He leans down to whisper in my ear ‘You're close aren't you? I can feel your walls squeezing me...’ I couldn’t even think straight I was so cock drunk.
‘so big matt..’ i moan gripping the sheets. A deep growl escapes his throat at the way i stretch around him ‘Tell me how much you can take, baby... How much of my big cock can your little pussy handle?’ He reaches between us and finds my clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. ‘c-can’t take it’ I cried.
He chuckles and pulls out almost completely, then slams back in, hitting my cervix ‘Too much huh? You can't handle all this dick...’ He does it again, pounding his hips against yours ‘Look at me, eyes on me...’ I try to keep them open as I moan uncontrollably. ‘Good girl... Now tell me who's fucking that tight little pussy?’ His abs contract with each powerful thrust, his fingers still working my clit
‘Tell me...’ He grinds his hips in a way that makes me gasp ‘That's my girl, fucking losing it...’ I grip his shoulders tightly. ‘mmh it’s yours Matt all yours..’ His pace quickens and he pulls out almost completely ‘Who does this belong to? Who's the only one allowed to fill this pretty little hole up?’ ‘you Matt only you’ I moan out. ‘Fuck yeah... Only me...’ His voice gets deeper, more primal. ‘"That's right, baby... This pussy is mine’ my eyes roll back as I moan uncontrollably.
His pace is brutal, his hips snapping back and forth as he fills me up completely ‘Say I’m Matt's girl...’ ‘I’m Matt’s girl..’ I moan out. ‘That's it... You're my fucking girl...’ He pulls out and flips me over onto my hands and knees ‘Now watch the mirror and watch me fill you up again...’ He lines himself up with my entrance and slams back in, his balls slapping against my clit. I grip the sheets crying out in pleasure.
‘Look at yourself... See how well you take my cock?’ He reaches around to play with my clit as he fucks me from behind ‘So goddamn beautiful... My girl, my pussy, my everything.’ I choked out a groan. ‘don’t stop don’t stop..’ the only thing I can repeat. ‘You like that, baby? Like watching me fuck you senseless?’ He leans down to kiss my shoulder, his hips never stopping their brutal pace ‘You're so close, I can feel it...’ ‘Matt please fuck ima cum’
‘Cum for me, baby... Show me who you belong to...’ He slams into me one last time and holds himself deep inside of me as he comes, his hot seed filling you up completely ‘Fuck...’ my body goes limp shaking, He collapses on top of me. His heavy breathing the only sound in the room for a moment, he eventually rolls off and pulls me onto his chest His arms wrapped around me. ‘told you id make you mine...’ i laughed softly.
‘I love you…’ I muttered out. ‘I love you too pretty girl’ He kisses the top of my head, his heart still racing from the intense sexual intimacy we just had "Now rest. We'll order some food and watch a movie later." He holds me close, feeling completely content and satisfied. ‘Perfect day.’ He said softly….
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A/n: I hope you enjoyed sorry I took a break I got stuff I’m working on for you guys! And for my Chris girls keep an eye out ….
(COMMENT IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED TO MY TAG LIST!)
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bambiesfics · 10 months ago
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𝗘𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗦𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗚𝗳 — Ellie x Bimbo!r
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𝜗𝜚 Author’s notes ✦ Butch/femme dynamics, Ellie has a panic attack, this references joel’s death, anxiety, bile, nausea, and hyper sexual themes, Ellie’s butch, wears a packer/strap. Refers to it as cock, dick etc Reader’s a bimbo and genuinely stupid. Ellie gets really scared.
𝜗𝜚 Ellie Williams ✦ I listened to Vietnam - Crystal Castles it’s tempo mirrors Ellie’s panicked anxiety. I’ve linked to a few seconds before the beat drops, on YouTube for accessibility. Listen with earphones so the music fucks your ears.
𝜗𝜚 If you find yourself uncomfortable with the themes in this fic, maybe try educating yourself on Butch sexuality. Read this to get a sense of Ellie’s headspace.
kisses u. ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡.
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Ellie fisted the joystick into neutral and killed the engine. She cracked all 5 knuckles before reaching over to release your seatbelt. The belts cold buckle sprang across your breasts and over your shoulder, turning your nipples visibly hard and full in their wake. Ellie fought off the urge to glance down; to drink them in. She was semi-successful at managing away her inner teenage boy every time it chose to rear its ugly hungry head at inopportune moments.
  “So…” she started, her hand massaging the inner dough of your thighs, warmed by the hug of your crossed legs. “We just gettin’ your little sparkly earrings? Or are you gonna get distracted and spend more money than I make in a single paycheck?” 
  You ran your palms up the sleeves of Ellie’s brown military jacket. Fascinated by the texture of the rough fabric everytime one of its crinkles caught against your acrylic nails. You couldn’t fathom how Ellie walked around in clothes so rough and distressed, all of your outfits were soft cotton or silky satin. And here Ellie wore a deconstructed uniform jacket like it was meant for her body. You blinked away your distracted thoughts, and leaned into nose at her neck. Pressing nose and lips to the source of the most comforting scent in the world to you. Allspice, cigarette smoke, and 2-in-1 body wash. There was still a faint trace of her cologne, you wish she wore it, the traces of it made you go brainless for your butch.
  “Earrings only.” Your sweet voice was muffled against her neck. She reached her other hand up to cup the back of your neck. The cold metal of her rings kissed your skin, but you leaned into it.   
 “I’ll wait for you right here, peach.” 
“Okay.” You nodded obediently. 
“Don’t spend too long in there, okay?”
“Okay.” You nodded once again. 
“If anyone stares at you too long or makes you feel weird for being girly, call me and I’ll meet you wherever. Especially those judgemental ass grandmas.”
You looked up at her, her hair was in her eyes, casting a shadow that turned her gaze into a deep hunter green. 
You leaned in slowly and kissed her lips. Ellie attempted to chase the kiss, until you slid your hand between the valley of her breasts and urged her to stay. Behave baby boy. 
  Ellie’s right eyebrow quirked up in response, impressed that you kept her in check. That you knew her so well that you could tell exactly where that kiss could’ve led to if you didn’t tell her to slow down. 
“Be right back here in an hour.” Ellie was relishing in how your thumb rubbed across her chest. Your hand rested on her chest like you were her little damsel in distress, looking to her to save you. You made her feel like Clark Kent, and it made her want to puff her chest out. 
  “Hour-and-a-half, I wanna get ice cream.” You prattled.
  “An hour.”
  “Ellieeee” You whined. 
  “If you’re not back here by 2:30 pm, I’m stomping into Icing myself, throwing you over my shoulder and marching right back out.” 
  “Please as if you could hoist me up over your shoulder.” You leaned over to fish Ellie’s wallet from her back pocket. 
  Ellie side-eyed you intensely as she tracked the movement. She enclsaped your wrist in an iron grip once your acrylics brushed the back pocket of her jeans. Her thumb pressed down. You couldn’t move.
“You didn’t seem confused about my strength when I lifted you into that full nelson and pounded you in front of the mirror.” She dropped her blue steel face and started grinning like a fox. “Uhnnuhuh Ellie, m’gonna squirt. I’m gonna squirt on you daddy.” She mocked in a high-pitched overly feminine voice. She drew her eyebrows together to school up the appearance of someone deliriously aroused. One that mimicked your cock-drunk face all those days ago.  
  Ellie dropped the comedic expression for a moment, in favor of replacing it with the one she sported to intimidate customers who started testing her boundaries or her patience. The one that said ‘respect me.’  
“Fuck you, asshole. I’m made of steel.” She spat.
  You leaned up, and just planted a glossy kiss on her cheek. She blushed until she was cherry tomato red. She always blushed harder when you were affectionate to her, in the middle of her egotistical masculine delusions. Like a mom kissing her son's cheek, after he called himself Spider-Man. 
Ellie would tease you for hours. But remind her again you were her adorable little girlfriend who she worshiped, then she’d be back to acting right again. Ready to hump the air just to get a whiff of your hair. Sweet and pliable. Ellie crossed her fingers subtly and hoped you got specks of glitter gloss on her cheek from that kiss. She wore your kisses like merchandise. Those and the smell of your pussy on her mouth and fingers. Some days, the smell was just smeared all over her face. 
  You blinked at her, slow and pouty in the way that got her real happy and pleased. “Now that you’re done poking and teasing me, can I go inside to get my sparkly earrings?” 
Ellie slid her wallet into your palm, her lips parted at the way your acrylics snatched it. The way they sunk into the soft leather. Mmmm.
  “An hour.” 
You climbed out of her beat up hatchback. The metal groaned as you slammed the door shut. “See you Els, if I get in trouble or get lost I’ll call you okay? I charged my phone this time. Bye-bye.”  You sing-songed just before walking away, out of the parking lot and towards the entrance of the mall.
  You were the utter definition of hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go. Ellie drank in the very very obvious little characters of your ass. The jiggly flesh, dimpled skin, and the way they smacked each other with each step. The type of visual someone could only see if the person walking in front of them was naked. Which you practically were considering how your pink cotton leggings looked painted on. The silhouette was way too intimate with how well it showed the character of your ass. She could’ve forced you to change, but you two had such a good morning today. 
Ellie didn’t want to—no—she hated picking fights with you. Ellie being mad at you? That was just another Tuesday. She had temperament issues, trauma, death of a loved one blah blah blah. But you being mad at Ellie? She’d kill herself. She shuddered in the car at the thought of it, and swallowed her jealousy. Everyone sees your little dimpled ass? Fine. She’s the only person that’s seen it twerking for her during backshots. And anyway, you’d get jealous if she wore gray sweatpants to work, so she kinda understood the sentiment. Especially because she packed everywhere, and the bulge was glaring. 
  Ellie wrapped her knuckles on the steering wheel. Trying to distract herself from the slow and lonely weight of the parking lot. Joy Division’s “disorder” played in her head. She considered pulling out a Marlboro to smoke, but thought against it. She remembered how you squealed whenever she kissed you with cigarette breath, telling her how it made your kisses taste so bitter. 
Truth be told, she was just as clingy with you, as you were to her. You just initiated it more often. When someone follows her around like a little puppy trying to catch up to its much larger owner all day, it’s hard not to notice their missing presence. 
  Ellie played with her rings as the mounting anxiety gnawed at her tummy. She turned her wrist over to check her watch. Ten. Only ten minutes had gone by? Fucking christ. 
She puffed out her cheeks. Yeah she was being ridiculous. Knowing you, you probably had only just arrived at the store, and that meant making a cute pikachu face at every new piece of merchandise they shipped into the shop floor that week. So it’d be a while before you were back. She could’ve gone in with you, but Ellie knew her presence there would’ve weirdly encouraged you to take a full day tour of the mall. She was your walking wallet apparently. But it’s worse when the wallet can actually give in.
  It was better this way, you kept her card in hand, but Ellie wasn’t physically there to actually convince of anything. So you couldn’t use it to buy anything more than earrings. Plus, she couldn’t stand another trip to Victoria’s Secret. As much as she loved the way you modeled a show for her whenever you tried stuff on, and as much as the jokes she cracked with the other boyfriends waiting for their girlfriends to be done made for good conversation, Victoria’s Secret just served to make her feel incredibly out of place. Mostly due to its overtly sexual displays of femininity. Something she still struggled to place how she felt about. All Ellie knew was that she didn’t want it.
Matter of fact she had repelled femininity so much, it even reflected in her dating preferences. You were by far the most feminine girl Ellie had ever dated. That was a considerably large shift from the tomboys she typically had crushes on in highschool.  
But she couldn’t help but be turned on by the way your acrylics stroked her bulge, by the way you blinked up at her with those dolly lashes like you needed her approval more than you needed oxygen, by the way she got both wet and enraged seeing men’s gazes linger on you as she walked behind you. Lingering in a way that they never did for any of her exes. It ignited a possessiveness in her she had convinced herself she didn’t have the ability to feel. Made her walk out the house with her shoulders drawn up to her ears, scowling. As if to say to all the men, ‘fuck off, get your own cocksleeve. This one’s claimed.’ 
  You were the cutest cocksleeve too. The human embodiment of a little bow for her dick. 
Just the thought prompted her to squeeze her bulge through her jeans, feeling phantom erections.
God it’d been how long now? Ellie checked her watch, reading the watch face to make sure she’d read that right. Twenty minutes? Only?
  Her palms started perspiring, and she started grinding her teeth. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. She’ll be back any minute. Be cool, you freak. 
Ellie reached to grab her phone, but the way the time flashed at the top bar of the screen made her stomach knot up anxiously. She chucked her phone into the passenger seat, and rolled down the window to get some fresh air. It felt beautiful for a moment, her rough short hair curling around the wind and blowing in her eyes. But then she felt like she couldn’t breathe again. Like her throat was squeezing in on itself. So Ellie unbuttoned the top button of her navy plaid button down. She yanked the collar away from her neck, and took deep breaths. Nice and deep slow breaths. The demonic little shadows and whispers of panic ebbed away, leaving only room for peace and the sunlight of the early afternoon. Ellie smiled, she’d be fine. 
She played with her rings, recounting all the places and dates she’d thrifted them from. Then she started fidgeting with them as her leg bounced in the car, working off some of that returning nervous energy. The little shadows were starting to creep back in her mind again. Ellie white-knuckled the steering wheel. “No, no, no please. Not now, please not now.” She sucked in a deep breath as unshed tears lined her waterline. She flipped her wrist watch face up quickly, you’d been gone for thirty-five minutes by this point. And Ellie felt her skin run cold. thirty-five minutes left twenty-five minutes. Twenty-five more minutes for the ebb and flow of panic to infect her brain and trigger her adrenaline response. Twenty-five more minutes of letting her own mind attack itself. Ellie couldn’t stomach the thought. She started gasping as she fidgeted to remove the car keys from the ignition. The dark whispering shadow only urged her to look at one thought in her mind: Alone. You’re alone again, Ellie. 
  She nearly keeled over from the sheer nausea that thought brought about. Ellie tripped out of her car, slammed the door and stumbled towards the mall as her heartbeat thundered louder than her thoughts. And her thoughts were very loud. Her face felt tight and itchy, as she ran. And due to the combination of wind and glossy eyes, her vision warped until it became disfigured. Which only set off to make her blood run icier. Like she was being deprived of all her necessary  senses as she yanked the mall door open and stumbled around trying to wade her way through until she got to the side where women’s jewelry and clothing was huddled. Her vision was disjointed, Ellie felt as if she was looking through a fish-eye lens. It caused bile to rise in her throat. Ellie was spiraling, she knew it. And if she didn’t find you—fuck where were you?—it was only going to get uglier for her. She despised being reduced to ugly. She hated herself when she was ugly. 
  Snot mixed in with tears as she scaled the walls of the mall trying to use the brightness of pink and white signs to guide her to the right store. You promised you’d go to icing, you promised you’d go to icing, you promised you’d go to icing. She hummed the mantra in corners of her brain.
She gurgled “better fucking be at Icing otherwise I’m gonna kill he—my heart christ—fuck fuck fuck baby please be at icing.” The palpitations rolled in, causing her heart to beat erratically. Two beats instead of one, a skipped beat, or an extra hard beat. Every bastardized combination instead of the reliable, glub-glub of a healthy heart. Ellie gripped her own shirt, and tried to feel any lingering warmth from your hand when you placed it there nearly an hour ago. Her breaths were coming out ragged, and she was still blind with a disjointed vision no matter how much she rubbed her jacket across her eyes to soak up tears. Ellie stumbled until she saw a store with the familiar lettering, and she yanked and tugged at her shirt to ground herself as she made her way to the checkout lane. “Hi.” Her voice came out so small and strained. She hated herself for it. 
  “Have you seen a girl, she’s—seems about yay-high and she’s wearing pink leggings and a tight pink top. Oh—she’s pretty—long nails. My girlfriend, do you know where my girlfriend is?” Ellie choked, her sanity was slipping. Her bloodshot eyes were crazed as she stared down at the cashier like the woman held the answer to curing Ellie’s mental suffering. 
  “N-no. Sorry I didn’t see a girl with pink leggings.”
  “No?” Ellie’s voice grew fainter, weaker. She sobbed “are you sure?” but her voice crackled with that sentence, and the cashier just stared at her with a puzzled expression, unsure of what to say to diffuse the situation. 
  Ellie stumbled out of the store, flinching at the expressions of customers who were looking around the store to see if they were the only one witnessing the girl's mounting panic attack. She ran to an empty hallway in the mall. The one where they kept those gumball machines that hadn’t been replaced since 1998. She fell to her knees and curled in on herself. Her nails scratched her scalp until it broke skin, trying to draw out the thoughts of being alone, being alone, being alone, being, alone, being alone, being alone, being alone, being alone, out of her head. 
Ellie tugged at her hair now, using the self-inflicted pain to distract from that hungry giggling fear, the one that wrapped itself around her eyes and throat and told her to describe what she saw: loneliness. Pitch black, devoid of warmth, pure unadulterated isolation. 
She needed you, needed you so bad as she cried to herself on her knees. She should’ve never let you go alone, she should’ve never let you walk away from her, she should’ve never let you have an hour to leave her, she should’ve never let you take her wallet and not take her, she should’ve never ever ever ever ignored the signs, the raised hairs and the feeling of dread that pooled in her stomach the past week. Just waiting to be triggered by something insignificant. Now it was triggered, and in an incredibly public place too. Ellie beat her chest, coughing just to bring herself down from the dissociative hell her mind was flinching in. “Baby where are you? I’m hurting…it’s hurting me again. Pleasepleasepleaseplease, peach.”  
  Nails bluntly tickled her nape, sending a shiver down her spine just as the smell of sweet jasmine and vanilla perfume engulfed her. Ellie broke from her kneeling fetal position to draw you into her lap. She didn’t even need to look at you, she knew you like the back of her hand. Ellie knew the feeling of those acrylic nails because of how deeply they’d scratched down her back in bed. She knew the smell of your perfume from how often she’d buried her face into your waiting body after work for comfort. Her grip was painful, likely breaking capillaries from its tightness. She mewled for you like a kitten finding its mother. “Babygirl.” 
  “Ellie—Ellie I’m sorry did I take too long? I set an alarm, I don’t think it went off, I’m sorry Ellie I didn’t mean too I promise.” Ellie let out a wet laugh from where her face was crooned in your neck. She just shook her head. It absolutely was not your fault. But God weren’t you just the cutest fucking thing in the world for thinking you’d made another little mistake? How sweet, that even in the face of Ellie’s utter mental crack and breakdown, you found a way to give your baby the benefit of the doubt. Ellie dragged her face up your neck, inhaling deeply as her nose traced a path up your throat. The scent alone was like Xanax to the nerves, drowning her in a sea of serenity. Letting the anxiety ebb away until it was no more than a dull twinge, the whispers reduced to muted hums. You were her light. Ellie’s grip on you tightened, her medicine. 
  She pulled her face away, and she could only imagine how distressed she must’ve looked by the way your eyebrows drew up, and by the way your pretty little lips formed a worried pout. Ellie gnawed on her bottom lip. There was nothing to fear, you would understand. 
“You didn’t take too long princess, I just had a panic attack.”
  Your hands flew to cup Ellie’s reddened blotchy cheeks, massaging her face cutely as her eyelashes fluttered. God, you were a balm. “I should’ve seen it coming, I’ve been feeling so out of it the past week. But then this morning was so fun. We made fluffy pancakes, you sat on my lap and listened to my dumb work drama, helped me trim my bangs, then...” Ellie blew air into her cheeks and looked up. This was going to be hard to say. Felt like a lump stuck in her throat. “Then we got ready and the kiss we had before we got in the car made everything melt away. This morning was so good baby, so good. I tried to ignore it, thinking my brain just wanted to be a little asshole and spook me for no reason. But no—I should’ve known—it doesn’t play tricks, it only gives warnings.” 
  Ellie leaned into your palms, she kissed them gently. “Can we go home baby?.” She held your gaze through wet eyelashes. You nodded “Mhm. I’m sorry Els I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I missed you.” You were disappointed because you didn’t intuitively know the right words to say, and how to say them. Didn’t know how to articulate that you understood her pain but she also shouldn’t beat herself up. Everything you thought of sounded cliche, you weren’t smarter than her, you weren’t able to come up with reassuring words the way other people could. Not like her uncle Tommy or Maria, or anyone. All you could do was cover her in kisses, tell her you loved her, that next time you’d never ever be separated from her, and cradle her head against your chest. 
  Ellie rose to her feet, pulling you up with her by your elbows. The kiss that followed was for comfort, for reassurance. For the feeling of squeezing her human emotional support plushie. 
  Ellie pulled away first, leaving you wanting more. She tasted so good, smelled so good. Made you want to pur and stroke her through her jeans. But it wasn’t the time nor place. Not after recent events. 
“Did you get your earrings at least?” 
“Yeah, I got a pair for you too!” You shared excitedly. 
  Ellie was still shaken up, but for now she could break out a small grin. “You got earrings for me?”
  “Yes, same color too!” 
  “Baby, my ears aren’t even pierced...”
  “Oh.” Ellie loved that, your characteristic little ‘oh’. 
“I knew that. I just got them for when—for when you decided to pierce them, yeah.” 
Ellie was hot in your heels as you two made your way out of the mall “Is that right?”
“Mhm.” You refused to meet her eyes.
“Oh yeah? K, then. Thank you so much for getting me a gift using my credit card.”
 “You’re very welcome, I love when we match as a couple. Els when we got home, did you want my chicken noodle? Cause it’ll make you feel better.”  
Ellie sucked in a breath. Cuteness aggression was real, and she was feeling it so hard right then. Right after her emotions had already been frayed by her anxiety. She knew, if it wasn’t for the way the panic attack had left her feeling utterly exhausted, bone tired like a wet blanket, ready to drop at a moment's notice to recuperate, that she would’ve done something that would’ve pulled a squeal out of you in the car. And she had the package to do so. 
  “Sure, I’ll eat your damn noodle soup.” She chuckled tiredly. 
  You put both palms on her chest and leaned in to kiss her, stealing back some of the desire that was ripped away too soon in the mall. 
“You’ll feel better in no time.” 
 Ellie gave you a once-over. Over eager, as usual. 
“Somehow I don’t doubt that.” 
  You littered her face in kisses all the way home, like you always did. Like you thought each press of your lips to her freckled face was going to cure her of her anguish. And believe Ellie, every press of your puffy lips to her cheeks, tip of her nose and forehead did more for her state of mind than two hours of trauma therapy a week did. Or at least that’s what she’d like to believe. Fuck the noddle soup, it’s you. You’re what’s going to make her feel better. As long as you’re there, everyday for her to come home to. All she needed was her pretty princess, her little babydoll, her little bimbo.
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menagerofmischief · 2 months ago
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hi! could i place an order for olives and cheese and a hot appetizer. i'd also like fish tacos, veggie burger, and hot dog. then for the drinks, could i get ice tea, champagne, and an espresso (fem dom reader if you’re okay with that). i don't need dessert but if you want to add it that's okay! and for the servers i’d like charles leclerc and max verstappen. p.s my fav track is spa
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Dia's Diner Menu / Masterlist
olives and cheese friends to lovers hot appetizer sweet sex fish tacos "Just lie back and let me take care of you" veggie burger "Feel how hard you make me" hot dog "Thought about you while touching myself. The real thing is much better" ice tea oral champagne threesome espresso dom/sub (dom!reader) light dessert some aftercare + moussaka "You look your best covered in my cum"
boyfriend!Max Verstapen x girlfriend!reader x bsf!Charles Leclerc
TW: oral (m!receiving/f!receiving), face sitting, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, PiV, PiA, threesome mmf, charles gets used (sexually), switch!max, dom!reader, sub!charles, MxM action, degradation, praise, semi public sex (car), inappropriate elevator behaviour, unprotected sex x2, cumming inside, cumming on someone, no real plot mostly just porn, also smut straight under the cut
WC: 3.2k
A/N: this is like filthy filthy - I got started and I couldn't stop. also, in this fic reader and max are dating and charles is their best friend.
request more lestappen x reader pls ...
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“Fuck,” I say, my voice laced with a laugh as I look down at the man in front of me. “Is that what you wanted?”
Max whines, his eyes glassy as he desperately tries to thrust up into my hand despite me pushing his hips down. I laugh at him, finally bringing my hand back down to his hard dick, wrapping it around him and giving him a few strokes, running my thumb across the slit which had him moaning.
“I think I asked you a question?” I say, gripping his length just a bit harder. “Is that what you’ve been thinking about, you little whore? Bringing your best friend into our bed.”
“Yes,” Max moans, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, his cheeks flushed and chest raising and falling with each desperate breath he takes. “Yes, fuck, I can’t stop thinking about it. Since -”
He cuts himself off with a loud whine, his head falling backwards when I lean down and wrap my lips around his tip, circling it with my tongue. I pull back, a string of saliva still connecting me to him and lay a slap against his thigh. “Didn’t tell you to stop talking.”
I kitten lick his tip before placing kisses down his length lower and lower until I’m finally running my tongue along his balls.
Max moans loudly and I can feel his thighs tense as he tries to keep himself from thrusting his body upwards. I look up at him through my eyelashes, the massage clear in my eyes. Keep talking.
“A, fuck fuck … a few days ago when you were walking with him from Ferrari to RedBull, and he had his arm on your back and you were laughing at something he said.” Max’s hand goes to my hair, his fingers tangling into the strands but he doesn’t pull, just holds my hair as I keep working my mouth on his cock. “You two looked so hot together - can’t help it!”
“Oh baby,” I cooed, pulling away and wrapping one of my hands around him instead. “You saw us talking together and suddenly all you can think about is a threesome. You desperate dirty whore.”
“He wants it too,” Max babbled, his eyes rolling back from pleasure. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“And I’ve seen the way you look at him,” I shot back, speeding up the movement of my hand. “Let me tell you something Maxie, I would be more than happy to have a threesome with Charles but if you want it that bad, you’re the one who has to do something about it. Does that work for you?”
“Yes, yes!” He said, his voice desperate. “I’ll do it, swear! I’ll ask him!” Max whined, his abdomen tensing and I could tell that he was close. “I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum!”
“Cum,” I said before leaning down and taking all of him into my mouth, gagging a little when I felt his tip rub against the back of my throat. It only took a few bobs of my head and Max was cumming, shooting his load down my throat, moaning like a whore.
✿ ✿ ✿
It’s a few days later, the conversation just barely lingering in the back of my mind, that something happens. 
We’re on our way back from a grid get together, just something for the drivers and the WAG’s. All three of us, Max, Charles and me. Max was sitting in the front, his eyes focused on the road, and I was in the back with Charles, deciding to keep him company rather than let him sit in the back alone. That was possibly a bad move on my side.
It was a logical thing, to offer to drive Charles back, seeing as we lived in the same building and it was too late for him to bike back home. That didn’t mean that the situation in the car was comfortable - in fact, the tension was so thick it felt suffocating, even with the windows rolled down and the wind running through my hair as Max sped down the streets of Monaco.
It was quiet, not even the radio playing, which probably contributed to the tension. I was about to open my mouth, say something, say anything really as the silence was becoming unbearable.
But instead the only thing that came out of my mouth was a gasp. A gasp, as Charles put his hand on my naked thigh, where my dress had ridden up, his thumb rubbing circles into my skin. A gasp, as my eyes met Max’s in the rear-view mirror, his eyes scrunched up letting me know he was smirking.
This was planned.
This was discussed.
Between the two of them. 
I had told Max that if he wanted a threesome with Charles he was going to be the one to discuss it with him. Apparently he had - and I wasn’t about to complain.
I looked over to Charles, a hint of hesitation still visible in his eyes. “Well,” I said, my voice finally breaking the silence we had fallen into. “Are you gonna keep your hand there or are you gonna be a good boy and do something?”
Charles’s eyes widened, his pupils dilating and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed his spit. 
I could hear Max laugh from the front of the car. “Go on Charles,” he said, his voice holding a teasing tone. “I’ll even give you a challenge. Make her cum before we reach the building.”
I can’t help the amused laugh that escapes me. While more often than not when we were having sex Max was leaning onto the much more submissive side he did enjoy taking control from time to time. Seems like Charles was going to get the privilege of seeing one of those times. 
Charles doesn’t need to be told twice, his hand moving up my thigh and slipping underneath my dress. His breath hitches when his fingers brush directly against my slit, my arousal coating his fingers.
His eyes meet mine and as we pass under one of the street lights I can see how flushed his cheeks had gotten. “Panties didn’t do with the dress,” I said, licking my lips. I thought about it for a second before leaning forward and kissing him, gently pulling on his bottom lip with my teeth.
Charles whines into the kiss and finally his fingers brush over my clit and I let out a satisfied hum. He runs his fingers through my folds a few times, coating them in my wetness before slowly pushing one inside of me.
He thrusts it into me a few times before getting more comfortable and adding another finger in. “Oh there we go Charlie,” I say, my voice slightly breathless. “Feels so good, baby, keep going.”
I can see his eyes light up at the praise and the movement of his fingers starts to speed up  His fingers curl each time he pushed them back inside, rubbing just right against my most sensitive spot and he brings his thumb down to my clit, flicking it in time to match the thrusts of his fingers.
He works fast, he’s desperate and soon enough he’s bringing me to the edge of an orgasm. Looking to the front I can see Max is holding the wheel with only one hand and rather obviously palming himself through his jeans with the other. Maybe I’d be doing that while driving but he is a 3 times racing world champion so it doesn’t really matter.
I moan, feeling the pressure and burning in my stomach and grab onto Charles’s arm to steady myself and keep his hand there. “You’re gonna me cum, Charlie,” I say, my voice cracking. “Keep going!”
It’s only a few more thrusts of his fingers and flicks of my clit and I’m cumming, my orgasm coating his fingers. 
Charles pulls his fingers out, glistening with the remains of my arousal and orgasm, and without any hesitation pops them into his mouth. He sucks on his fingers, leaking them clean and moaning at the taste.
“You taste so good, cheri.” He says, his voice breathy. “Better than I imagined. I thought about you while touching myself,” he admits, leaning forward and placing kisses along my collarbones. “The real thing is much better.”
Max groans from the front and I’m about to reach forward and palm Charles over his jeans when the car pulls up into the garage. 
“Ride’s over, boys.” I said, a small smirk on my lips. “Come on, we’re going up to our apartment.”
It’s a wonder we even make it to the elevator, thankfully empty, before their hands are all over me. As soon as the elevator doors close Max is pulling me forward, his lips pressing against mine roughly and his hand slipping between my thighs to run his fingers over my pussy.
Charles is behind me, his hands groping my tits, lips pressed against my neck as he grinds his hard cock into my ass.
“You feel that, cheri?” Charles asks, his accent thick. He pushes his hips forward, his dick rubbing against my ass. “Feel how hard you make me?”
I pull away from Max and turn around to face Charles with a hum, Grabbing onto his shirt I pull him down enough to kiss him. He groans into the kiss but I am soon pulling back and stepping away, moving to stand behind Max, my hands running over his chest.
It’s silent for a moment, the elevator filled with the sound of heavy breathing as the two of them look at each other. And then something snaps and Charles surged forward, both of his hands cupping Max’s face as he smashes his lips against Max’s.
I had to admit it, seeing the two of them kiss was even more attractive than I thought it was going to be. They pulled away just as the elevator dinged before the doors slid open on our floor.
All three of us rushed out and down the hallway, Max fumbling with the keys before opening the front door and then kicking it closed once we were all inside. As soon as the door is closed we waste no time, immediately moving to the bedroom.
I start unbuttoning Charles’s shirt, my fingers moving along every inch of his revealed skin while Max unzips my dress from behind me and pulls it off my body, leaving me only in my bra.  
I finally push Charles’s shirt off and hear shuffling behind me, letting me know Max is taking off his clothes. Charles makes quick work of his pants and then reaches forward, his arms going around me, fingers hooking under my bra and opening it.
Max presses his chest against my back, his dick sliding between my bare thighs, his tip catching against my clit causing me to let out a little moan. Charles takes my bra off and immediately he’s leaning down, running his tongue along the skin of tit before wrapping his lips around my nipple and sucking while his fingers toy with the other one. 
I can feel Max move away because the feel of him between my legs is gone. He moves to the other side of the room, pulling out an all too familiar box of toys and rummaging through it before he pulls out a bottle of lube.
I catch his eye and give him a smirk and silently we agree how the rest of the night is going to be going.
I push my hand into Charles’s hair, wrapping it around his locks and pulling his head back. He whines, his lips slightly swollen and glazed with saliva, his eyes meet mine. I let go of his hair and cup his cheek, running my thumb over his skin. 
“You’re so pretty, baby.” I say, gently pushing against his stomach with one hand to guide him back towards the bed. His knees hit the edge of the bed and I push him down, a smile on my lips. “Just lie back and let us take care of you, pretty boy.”
“Please,” Charles whines, and obediently moves himself up along the bed, settling down into the mattress once his head is resting on a pillow.
I crawl up to him, straddling his chest and can feel his abs rubbing against my clit. “Now Charlie,” I said, my fingers ghosting over his chest. “Max is going to finger you pretty ass and then when he’s stretched you he’s going to fuck your ass while I ride your cock. Does that sound okay baby?”
Charles whined, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and he nodded his head desperately, his hands gripping my waist. “Yes please! Please -”
I could hear the bottle cap opening and liquid squirting and then Charles moaned and I knew Max had started touching him. 
Charles’s hands grip my waist, his blunt nails digging into my skin as Max works him open. Behind me I can hear Max laugh, his voice ringing against the walls of the bedroom. “You should see how well he’s taking it. Like a proper slut.”
“Fuck, Y/n,” Charles moans, making me look down at him with a curious look. “Need to taste you, need it.” He babbles through moans, “Sit on my face. Please, ride my face.”
I don’t even think it through, too turned on to even entertain the possibility of declining, and why would I want to decline. I move up and turn around so I’m facing down Charles’s body and looking at Max, before lovering my hips down to Charles’s face.
His nose nudges against my clit, pulling a breathy moan from me as he starts thrusting his tongue into my hole, eating me like a man starved. I help him out a bit by moving my hips slightly, rubbing my clit onto his nose.
“How’s it going Max?” I ask, my voice teasing.
He smiles in reply, two of his fingers buried into Charle’s asshole and he’s thrusting them in. “Going good, schat.” He replies, leaning forward over Charles’s body to kiss me. 
I can feel another orgasm approaching me and so can Charles because he wraps his lips around my clit, his tongue flicking the bundle of nerves and shoves two fingers inside of me, curling them right into my G-spot.
I come with a loud moan, my thighs closing around his head. After taking a moment to calm down from my orgasm I move myself off his face just as Max removes his fingers. 
“I think he’s ready,” Max says, already pouring lube on his dick. I move forward, squirting some lube onto my own hand before stroking Max with it, helping him lube his dick. “You ready, Charles?”
“Yes,” Charles says. His voice sounds slightly broken, a bit hoarse. “Fuck me. Both of you fuck me. Please.”
I wait for Max to push his cock in first. He’s hissing as he pushes the cockhead in and then the rest of his length. Charles is moaning in pleasure when Max finally bottoms out, lodged balls deep inside of him.
I straddle Charles again, I’m facing him with my back turned to Max. Max rubs my shoulder with one hand, leaning forward enough for his lips to brush the shell of my ear when he speaks. “I’ll hold his cock, you sink down.”
My mouth drops open as Max guides the tip of Charles’s dick to my opening, a breathy moan falling past my lips as I begin to sink down on his cock. 
Charles is moaning so loud I’m sure there will be several noise complaints the next morning but I can’t bring myself to care. Not when he feels so good inside of me. 
“Ready, schat?”
“Ready, Max.”
Max and I start moving at the same time. I’m lifting my hips up halfway up Charles’s dick before lowering myself back down and behind me Max is thrusting into his hole.
Already sensitive from my previous orgasms I find myself quickly approaching another one. I can tell Charles is close too, his dick twitching inside of me. His cheeks are redder than his car, his eyes filled with tears.
I lean forward gently pressing my lips to his. “You gonna cum, pretty boy?” I ask, my lips brushing against his with every word. “Gonna be a good boy and cum for me?”
“Yes! Ah! Cumming!”
And that’s all he manages to say  before he’s shooting ropes of cum into me, filling me with his warm cum. I clench around his dick, my own orgasm washing over me, making me close my eyes and throw my head back, a moan caught in the back of my throat.
Charles whines and I don’t even realize it’s because Max pulled out until Max is kneeling on the bed next to me. His eyes find mine and he gives me a desperate look, pleas rolling off his tongue.
I move my hand down, wrapping it around his dick and start jerking him off. It only takes a few strokes and he’s cumming, shooting his load across Charles’s chest and covering him in his cum.
Max pants, trying to catch his breath, his chin resting on my shoulder. “Fucking hell, Leclerc.” He says, slightly out of breath. “You always look hot but damnit, you look your best covered in my cum.”
Charles hides his blushing face into his hands, mumbling out a muffled thank you. Max smiles before getting up and going over to the bathroom to get a towel while I make my way over to the kitchen for some water.
After making it back to bed just in time to see Max finish cleaning Charles up he gently spreads my legs open as well, wiping the cum from my pussy. I pass him one glass of water while offering the other to Charles.
“Here, Charlie, drink some water.” I say, knowing he’s probably too out of it to actually make a move for the glass, I bring to his lips. He drinks about half the glass until he decides he’s done and I put it down on the floor next to the bed.
Finally he snaps out of his trance, his eyes focusing on me and Max. When he speaks, the insecurity is unmistakable in his voice. “Should I get going?” He asks, his voice cracking. “I know you guys are probably tired. Just give me a minute, I’m not sure my legs are working properly.”
Max and I share a look, both of us shaking our heads.
“You don’t have to leave, Charles.” Max says, “We’d love to have you stay.”
Charles looks over to me, his eyes giving away just how vulnerable he’s feeling in the moment. I smile gently at him and nod my head, and he lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping.
“I’d love to stay,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
Max and I smile at him before moving on either side of him and laying down, quickly melting into the bed. We fall asleep as one big cuddle pile.
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alltheirdamn · 10 months ago
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DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader
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PART 2
Summary: After a summer away, you decide to pay a visit to your favorite mechanic. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3.7k Warnings: Pre-outbreak (AU), mechanic!joel, car sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, light nipple play, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darlin', babydoll, cowboy), cock riding, rough sex, creampie, joel once again being irresistible and disgustingly sweet, light sprinkle of fluff, porn with no plot (kinda) A/N: I have zero self-restraint and couldn't stop thinking about mechanic!joel soo... you could say, it was so nice she had to come twice ;)
PART 1 | Masterlist | Ko-fi
It wasn’t like you were actually planning on pulling off the highway to head toward that mechanic shop… except you totally were. Summer came and went, and after a few months spent in Tallahassee, it was time to go home. You weren’t in a rush this time, though, so you could afford a quick pit stop at a small mechanic shop. Nothing needed to be fixed in your car, but maybe you’d pop a screw loose just for the hell of it.
Pulling into the familiar garage, your heart thumped in your ears as you threw the car in park and nearly ran inside. The waiting room was disappointingly empty minus a handsome man standing behind the counter…one that wasn’t Joel.
His black curls were slicked back, and with just a white tank top and flannel on, you could tell he was built just like Joel. At your sudden entrance, he glanced your way, giving the cigarette in his hand a quick flick over the ashtray on the counter he leaned on.
“Can I help you with somethin’, miss?” He asked. He had that same drawl in his voice as Joel did.
Taming down your flyaways from the humidity, you walked over to the counter with a friendly smile. You didn’t miss how his eyes did a once-over on your body.
“I was just coming through town, thought I’d stop in to say hi to Joel,” you explained.
He took another drag of his cigarette, the cherry burning at the bottom. After a long inhale, he puffed out an air of smoke, filling the space with that stinging smell of nicotine. You weren’t completely opposed to the smell, and you most definitely appreciated him blowing it to the side so that it didn’t creep up into your nose.
“Joel’s just up at the mini-mart grabbin’ some beers. M’sure he’ll be back soon,” he shrugged. “I’m Tommy by the way, his brother.”
He extended his free hand, and you met him halfway to give him a friendly handshake, introducing yourself as well. Tommy donned that same lopsided grin as Joel; it must be that Southern charm and hospitality.
“So,” he drawled. “How y’know my brother?”
You shifted your weight between legs, trying to come up with some stupid lie to explain how you did know him. Short answer: he fixed your car. Long answer: he gave you the best orgasms of your life. 
“I, uh, came through town a few months ago to get my car fixed, and—.”
“Hey, Tommy! Come help me with the beers, man!” A voice shouted from the side door.
Tommy gave you an apologetic grin, rounding the corner to meet his brother outside. You leaned against the counter, drumming your fingers against it as you waited for them to reemerge. Tommy was walking back through the door moments later, a six-pack of beers in hand and Joel in tow. 
“C’mon man, I told you no smokin’ in the damn shop,” Joel grumbled, smacking the back of Tommy’s head.
Tommy only laughed at his brother's annoyance, walking around the counter to give Joel a clear view of you standing there. As his eyes set on you, Joel stopped in his tracks, a wild grin splitting across his face.
“Well, would y’look at that,” he beamed. “If it ain’t my favorite customer.”
A warmth crept up your skin, your cheeks blushing at his words. He approached you, leaning against the counter to mimic your stance. He still wore that worn-down black t-shirt, the fabric thinned out and stretching over his muscles. You wondered how long those scratches stayed on the skin of his back after you both…
“Ohhhh,” Tommy interrupted, forcing your eyes to tear away from Joel’s. “You’re the girl that’s got my brother out $500!”
Snapping your head back to Joel, you smacked his bicep in embarrassment.
“You told him?!” You shrieked.
Joel doubled over in laughter, clutching the arm you had just whacked.
“Calm down, darlin’. I ain’t ever think I’d see you again! S’all in good fun.”
You buried your face in your hands, letting out a small groan. Of course, he’d tell his fucking brother about you; the girl that didn’t have any fucking money for a car and slept her way out of the debt. You could bet Tommy probably didn’t believe Joel when he told him the story, either.
“Aw, c’mon now babydoll,” Joel crooned, peeling your hands away from your face. “I ain’t meant no harm in tellin’ the story.”
“He hasn’t told another soul,” Tommy said. You glanced over to see him raise a hand in defense. “Scouts honor.”
You smack Joel again for good measure, eliciting a howling laugh from Tommy on the other side of the counter. 
“Tommy, I’ll close up the shop tonight,” Joel said, raising an eyebrow at his brother. “Why don’t you head out and grab Sarah for me? M’sure I’ll be back in time for the game.”
“Fuckin’ better be,” Tommy tossed back. “Ain’t tryna lose my money to you again.”
“Seems like he needs that money,” you chimed in, rolling your eyes.
This time Joel shoved at you playfully, a hearty laugh rumbling through his chest. 
“Now she’s got jokes!” He teased. 
“Ha ha very funny,” Tommy said, scooping up the six-pack into his arms. “Nice meetin’ ya miss. Don’t run up your tab too high while you’re here.”
Tommy was just as good with the jabs as you were, so you threw him a quick smile and wave before he slid out the back door and disappeared. With only Joel and you left, that nervous feeling crept back in. 
“Got another tire blown out or did y’miss me?” Joel teased.
“Don’t let your ego get too big, cowboy,” you said. “I’m just rollin’ back through town.”
“Pretty sure I’m big everywhere, babydoll, but y’already know that.”
Joel took a step towards you, twisting a strand of your hair through his fingers. You could see the midday sun reflecting in his brown eyes, making them sparkle the longer he stared. Your gaze flicked down to his lips, that pouty bottom one quipped up into a slight grin. 
“You’re just so sure of yourself, aren’t you?” You laughed.
“Sure enough to know that pretty pussy is just soakin’ your underwear right now,” he drawled. 
He grabbed your hips, pinning you to his chest with an arm braced around your back. Dipping his hand between your bodies, he slid a finger over the seam of your zipper, teasing your already throbbing clit. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feather-like touch of his finger, your body aching for him.
“Fuckin’ knew it,” he whispered in your ear.
Your breath hitched as he popped open the button on your jeans and tugged down the zipper. Slipping two fingers between your skin and underwear, he drew lazy circles over your clit, watching you with rapt attention as you tried to stifle a moan.
“Mhmm,” he crooned. “Been dreamin’ ‘bout this pussy ever since you left town, darlin’.”
“Yeah?” you exhaled, rolling your hips against his fingers as they worked faster.
“Ain’t ever had my cock so wet.” Joel pressed a kiss against your neck as his fingers slid between your wet folds and teased your entrance. 
“Christ, Joel,” you exhaled. “Maybe we should take this somewhere else.”
Joel glanced around the empty waiting room and shrugged.
“No one’s here, darlin’.”
“Your shop windows are glass,” you argued. “Anyone can see us if they drive by.”
Teasing your wet folds, Joel slid a finger inside you, slowly curling it in an attempt to shut you up—which did work, unfortunately. You leaned into his broad chest, your head resting on his sternum as he continued the movement in slow strokes. 
“Joel,” you whimpered, clutching the fabric of his shirt.
“What, babydoll?” He asked innocently as if he didn’t fucking know what he was doing to you.
“Take me to the garage,” you breathed. “Please.”
“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely, darlin’.”
Pulling his hand out of your jeans, Joel bent to scoop you up, drawing your legs around his waist to carry you out of the waiting room. You wound your arms around his neck, dipping your head down to kiss along the stubble of his jawline. His hands squeezed your ass as he walked you both through the door to the garage, situating himself at the workbench. Still positioned in his lap, you wasted no time and pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed you back, his hands roaming up and down your body as you devoured one another. 
“Jesus, babydoll. Y’really did miss me, huh?” he muttered against your open mouth.
“Maybe I did, cowboy.”
Grinding your hips on his lap, you felt the strain of his cock beneath the worn-out fabric of his work jeans. Joel nipped at your bottom lip, groaning as you circled your hips harder. 
“Easy now, darlin’,” he warned. “Don’t wanna ruin my jeans like some middle school boy.”
You laughed and doubled down on your movements against his cock, each drag of your body forcing him to tense up. Joel’s hand came up to cup your breast through your bra, squeezing hard enough to make you whimper. 
“Y’gonna be a good girl for me, babydoll?” he questioned.
You snuck a glance at his face, seeing his pupils blown wide with lust. Nodding quietly, you stilled your movements and focused on the feel of his fingers pinching your hardened nipple through the fabric. Your jaw went slack as he toyed with you, coaxing humiliating sounds from your lips with each twist.
“Hmm,” he mused, leveling you with a dangerous stare. “That's how I get you to behave, huh?”
“Joel,” you whined breathlessly. 
“Use your words, babydoll.”
“I need you to fuck me,” you begged, leaning into his touch.
“Where’s those manners, darlin’?” he taunted.
Giving him the biggest pouty face you could muster, you pushed your bottom lip out and sealed the deal by batting your eyelashes at him.
“Please, cowboy?” 
Joel rolled his eyes and chuckled, bringing his hand down on your ass to deliver a sharp slap. Hoisting you back up, Joel spun your body back against the wall of the garage, shoving your shirt up as he pressed you against it. He wasted no time in dragging down your bra, ravishing your skin with kisses and bites, leaving a trail of marks down your breast and sternum. You ran your hands through his curls, feeling the humidity of the air dampen them the longer you both stayed in the garage. Neither of you seemed to mind, though; you were so wrapped up in each other there was no telling of what was happening in the outside world. 
He took your nipple between his teeth, biting it softly and rewarding your behavior with another trail of kisses back up your chest and neck. He mumbled a slew of curses under his breath as you mewled against his touch, his mouth hot against the underside of your jaw.
“Quite the mouth on you, cowboy,” you teased. 
“Y’already know what this mouth can do, darlin’. Don’t tempt me.”
“Why don’t you remind me?” you asked, a smug grin teasing your lips.
“Fuck, babydoll,” he groaned.
Setting you back down on your feet, Joel nodded towards his black truck, silently instructing you to move. With the truck bed already down, you did a little hop and shimmy onto it, settling back against the warm metal. Joel grabbed a clean towel off his workbench and stalked towards you with a devilish grin.
“Afraid to get your truck messy?” You smirked.
“I already know you’re gonna have the entire bed of it soaked in damn near a minute,” he responded.
Letting impatience get the best of you, you worked yourself out of your jeans and underwear, slingshotting it directly at Joel’s chest as he neared the edge of the truck. Catching it with one hand, he pocketed the black lace effortlessly, offering you the towel to situate yourself onto. Sliding your body into the towel, you dropped your legs open, giving Joel a perfect view to ogle at.
“Like what you see, cowboy?” You giggled, trailing your fingers down your abdomen and towards the wetness between your thighs. 
“Damn right I do, darlin’.”
Joel pressed up against the truck bed, bending over to kiss down your stomach where your hand laid against your aching clit. He brushed his lips over your fingers before drawing them into his mouth, sucking on them gently. Your breath hitched as your eyes connected, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. Joel pulled your fingers from his mouth and guided your hand through his hair.
“Give them curls a tug if y’need it, darlin’.”
Then his mouth was on you. Devouring you. Lapping at you. Every flick of his tongue sent shockwaves through your body, your veins coursing with an indescribable need to explode. Joel didn’t let up for a single second, his tongue and jaw working at you until your thighs quaked around his neck. He was pushing you closer and closer until that coil inside your stomach was ready to snap. You cried out as he flattened his tongue against your clit, putting pressure at just the right spot to make you see stars.
“Right there… oh my God, Joel,” you whispered, panting as you felt that build-up in your body begin.
With another long draw of his tongue and the brush of his nose against the sensitive bud of your clit, that coil snapped. Hot, warm liquid gushed out of you, covering the entirety of his open mouth and chin. Joel groaned as he continued lapping at you, the disgusting sound of your wet cunt drowning out the heartbeat thudding in your ears. Aftershocks of your orgasm coursed through you, your body pulsing with pleasure with each press of his mouth against you.
You tugged at his curls as he instructed, and Joel lifted his face to reveal what a dripping mess he had become. Your cheeks reddened at the sight of his hooded eyes and wild smile; the look of sheer bliss painting his features. Exhaling, you sagged against the metal of the truck, your chest rising and falling as you tried to regain some semblance of control.
“God, I sure did miss this pussy,” Joel hummed, nudging his nose against your dripping cunt. 
You squirmed against his face, too afraid another orgasm would surge through you and drench him again—which he obviously wouldn’t be opposed to. But you needed his cock buried inside you, now.
“Joel, climb up here,” you said, patting the metal beside you.
“What if I ain’t ready yet?” he argued, kissing the inside of your thighs.
“Joel,” you demanded.
“Alright, alright,” he sighed. “Don’t get all impatient on me now, darlin’.”
Hauling himself onto the truck bed, he crawled over your limp body, kissing up the side of your neck. Using what little strength you had left, you maneuvered yourself over him, flipping you both until you straddled his lap. Joel’s hands came up to your bare hips, his thick fingers squeezing and kneading the supple flesh as you rolled against his hardened cock.
“Gonna let me ride you, cowboy?” You asked.
“Fuck, darlin’,” he groaned, his eyes rolling back. “Boutta be the best ride of my goddamn life.”
Giving him a wink, you hurried to undo his belt and jeans, letting his cock spring free. Christ, you forgot how big it was. Joel chuckled at the way you stalled a moment, bucking his hips upwards in an attempt to get you moving.
“Calm down, cowboy,” you warned. “I’m gettin’ there.”
Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you positioned it at your entrance, slowly sinking down until your clit brushed against the curls at the base. Even dripping wet, you were forced to stretch around him, the fullness leaving you breathless for a moment. 
“Y’look so pretty like that, babydoll. S’fuckin full of me,” Joel hummed.
You whimpered at his words, moving your hips up and down finding the right tempo that sent you both into oblivion. The press of your knees against the metal wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but you could ignore it so long as he enjoyed himself. You picked up the pace, your body bouncing up and down as you forced his cock deeper inside you. Joel’s jaw went slack as he watched you, enraptured with the way you moved above him. Your bodies slapped together with each drop of your hips, and his fingers flexed against your waist as he pushed and pulled your body until you were grinding against him. 
“There ya’ go, babydoll,” Joel murmured. “Feel how deep I am?”
You only gave him a pathetic moan, letting his hands guide your body as you pulsed around his cock. You were so fucking full, the tip of his cock spearing up into you with each drag of your hips. Snaking a hand down your body, your fingers found your clit, drawing desperate circles as you tried to chase the orgasm threading through your muscles. 
“Fuck,” Joel groaned. “You’re just desperate to cum again, huh?”
“Yes, Joel,” you whined, putting more pressure on your clit as he drove himself deeper.
“S’fuckin’ pretty like that,” Joel exhaled. “Gonna drench me again, huh? Let’s see it, babydoll, cover me with it.”
Your mouth opened with a soundless cry, your cunt flexing around his cock as another orgasm ruptured through you, soaking your thighs and seeping into his jeans. Hauling you down against his chest, Joel positioned his knees upward, pistoning his hips against yours at a violent pace. 
“Fuck!!” You sobbed as more liquid gushed out of you, the strength of your orgasm amplified at this angle.
“Good fuckin’ girl. That’s it, c’mon,” Joel praised, his lips pressed against your ear. “Keep goin’, babydoll. I know y’can give me more.”
“I—I can’t!” You stammered.
Your orgasm wouldn’t let up, though. Joel’s cock drove into you with such force, that you continued soaking him over and over again despite your wailing protests. Joel continued praising you and talking you through each ripple of your orgasm, hushing you as you cried harder. 
“Just like that, babydoll. Shh… Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”
Joel kept a brutal pace, wrecking into you as he chased his own release. His hips snapped up one final time before he was spilling into you with a choked groan falling from his lips. 
Falling limp against his body, you stared at the sides of the truck bed with glazed eyes. Tremors still wracked through your body as you settled into his embrace, his hand rubbing soft circles over your shoulders. Craning his head to the side, Joel captured your lips in a soft kiss, his tongue dancing over yours slow and sweet. 
“Doin’ alright, babydoll?” he asked, breaking away from your lips.
You nodded mindlessly, too blissed out to form words. Nestled into his body, you let your fingers wander up his bicep and over his shoulder. Joel placed a soft kiss at the crown of your head, his muffled words lost in your hair.
“Hmm?” You asked.
“S’nothing,” he whispered. “Just enjoyed the ride, that’s all.”
You rested your head on his sternum, giving him a questioning look. 
“Sounded like you said something else,” you said, cocking a brow.
Joel huffed a laugh, his head falling back against the metal with a soft thud.
“I don’t know, darlin’. Guess I kinda like you.”
“Guess I kinda like you too, cowboy.”
Rolling off of him, you situated yourself against the side of the truck bed, resting your legs over his stomach. Joel’s hand kneaded into the tight muscles of your calves, working at the knots in your legs. His head leaned to the side to catch a glimpse at you, a smile breaking across his face.
“How long are y’staying in town?” he asked.
“I was only passing through,” you sighed.
His smile faltered a moment, that glimmer of hope flickering out in his eyes. Suddenly, the thought of leaving didn’t sound so nice.
“Why don’t y’stay the night?” he offered. “Got myself a big enough bed to sleep in, babydoll.”
“How much is it gonna cost me?” You teased, rubbing your foot over the softest part of his lower stomach.
“I’m thinkin’ a good blowjob,” he mused.
“Whatever you want, cowboy. Count me in.”
You spent a few moments in harmonious silence, basking in the circumstances’ simplicity. After a while, you found yourself climbing off the truck in search of your jeans and underwear. Joel worked his way down, too, stuffing his cock back into his pants and gathering the damp towel off the truck bed.
“You still have my underwear,” you grumbled, shaking out your jeans to slide into.
“And I’m gonna keep ‘em, darlin’,” Joel said, grabbing you by the waist to reel you in for a kiss. “Need me a lil’ souvenir.”
“You’re unbelievable,” you chuckled.
Foregoing underwear, you stuffed yourself back into your jeans and followed Joel to the passenger side of the truck, where he had the door already propped open for you. Helping you in, he reached over to secure your seatbelt, kissing your cheek softly before shutting the door and walking to the driver's side.
Turning the key in the ignition, Joel glanced over at you, his eyes roaming over your messy hair and rosy cheeks. 
“Y’sure are beautiful, babydoll. Wish I could keep ya here,” he sighed.
You rested your chin in your hand, leaning over the center console. 
“I don’t know, cowboy. Your negotiating skills are pretty damn good. Might talk me into staying with all those sweet words.”
“Oh yeah?” he perked up. “Y’know you still got a hefty bill to pay off.”
“Shit, you’re right,” you agreed. “I might have to stay a while to settle that debt.”
Joel cracked a smile, lifting up the console to haul you closer to him. Backing out of the garage, he navigated the truck onto the main road and towards wherever home was for him. Settling into his side, your fingers danced over the zipper of his pants as you waged your brows at him.
“Think I should start paying off that debt now?” You asked.
“I ain’t arguing with that, babydoll,” Joel grinned.
2K notes · View notes
wandasaura · 10 months ago
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SONG IN THE CAR
summary — wanda just wants to check that you’re not lying, but you can only keep yourself together for so long before you beg natasha to fuck you in the car
warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink, daddy kink, subspace, public play, inspection kink, butt plugs, packing, strap-on usage, mentions of edging, mentions of spanking, doggy style, car sex, semi-public sex, degradation, praise, dumbification, mentions of free use, finger sucking, oral fixation, men/minors dni
authors note — i’m not even going to apologize for what this turned into because once i started i just kept adding the most unhinged things. as always, this doesn’t need to be read with the yail series but it might make more sense if it is. the ending is a wee bit rushed but i wanted to get this out for you, so i hope you enjoy!
you are in love
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���️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
A strangled whine falls off the tip of your tongue when Wanda trails her fingers across the small of your back. The interior of the store is cold, the electric hum of an air conditioning unit almost as loud as the music that plays through speakers hidden within different vents around the clothing store. You can’t even fathom what business Wanda and Natasha have being in a shop that’s blasting brain melting pop tracks, but they dragged you inside at the first sight of the large LED letters out front. 
You’ve lost sight of Natasha, the Russian made a dramatic show of escaping toward the back wall merely seconds after Wanda dragged you over to look at a rack of denim shorts. The store was geared more toward a generation around your age, the elements of both boho aesthetic and minimalism felt almost too trendy to be authentic, but if you weren’t so… overwhelmed, to put it sweetly, you would’ve vocalized just how much you liked the style of clothes that sat folded precisely on the shelves surrounding you. 
Wanda’s hand lingered on the small of your back for longer than an appropriate second. Despite the cold store that threatened to erase all memories of the sweltering heat outside, the Sokovian’s hands were the perfect cross between just barely warm and unacceptably frigid. The longer they sat on the exposed skin of your back – the baby tee Natasha had picked out for you to wear hugging your ribs tightly and subsequently allowing both her and Wanda access to your sensitive spine – the harder it became to not envision them falling lower and lower until they found a place between your thighs for the second time that day. 
You weren’t looking at Wanda, intentionally avoiding her strong stare and focusing intensely on the white shelves that adorned the walls. You didn’t need to glance at her to feel the devilish smirk that rested across the very lips that had wrapped around your clit and left you needy only a handful of hours earlier to know that it was there and obnoxious. Natasha had kissed her in the car and claimed smugly that Wanda’s tongue still tasted of you, but neither had offered any assistance in relieving the sticky situation between your thighs. 
 When Wanda’s question went unanswered a second time, the question being if you liked anything in particular around the store, a perfectly sculpted brow rose in your direction and the attention you’d been putting on the racks of clothing became a fascination of the past. A slender finger cradled your jaw, cold against your flushed skin but not icy enough to flinch away from instinctively. The subtle gesture had forced your eyes away from the t-shirts and baby-tees you’d been meticulously staring at, and rather onto a set of twinkling green eyes. Wanda’s lips were still curved upward into a smirk, but they twinged with something dangerous as she set her gaze on your dilated pupils and permanently pink cheeks. 
“Mommy asked you a question, milaya. What’s got you so distracted?” Wanda pouts, her lips teasing and thin as they purse in an attempt to ward off a sickening grin of mischief that she wore mere seconds beforehand. She knows exactly what’s distracting you, she’d been the one to suggest this little game when Natasha decided she wanted to go shopping, but still she feigns innocence as you come undone in a disgusting public mall. 
Despite having an answer on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find the courage to share it with Wanda. There shouldn’t be any reason for you to vocalize your feelings when she’s already aware, despite her trying to break you down time and time again. Instead, you settle for something simple, and certain enough to wind her up a good deal. “Nothing.” The word doesn’t roll off your tongue as easily as you would’ve liked. It’s choppy and cuts like a dagger, but it sits lightly in the air between both of your warm bodies as Wanda takes the time to process what you’ve just said. Or rather, how you’ve just blatantly lied to her. 
“Oh, nothing’s distracting you, baby?” Wanda coos, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side as her eyes threaten to unravel the web of lies you're spinning. You don’t even have a chance to answer before she’s gripping your jaw, the pad of her thumb pressing into the hollow of your cheek while her pointer fingers sentence the other side of your face to the same fate. Her grip is tight, controlling, but not harsh enough to actually hurt. She’s mastered the art of grabbing you in a way that stuns you into submissive silence, and though you’re in public where anyone can see, she doesn’t seem to mind holding all the cards in her one-handed grip.  “So if Mommy put her hand in those pretty panties you’ve got on, she wouldn’t find a sticky mess?” 
There are two choices here, you can either deny the accusation and save a sliver of your dignity that’s waning fast as the day progresses, or you can agree with her accusation and hope that your honesty satisfies her need to be right in this moment; either choice will lead to her hand in your panties, you’re not dumb enough to believe that she’ll drop the act when you’re already this far in, but there’s still defiance burning in your belly that deceives you enough to believe you’ll walk away with the upperhand. Hastily, not thinking much of the consequences, your head shakes from side to side in the negative. You’ve decided to save yourself the embarrassment of admitting that your panties are absolutely drenched by no fault of your own, it’s entirely her fault and she knows that. The movement is little, restrained to small jerks due to the hand on your jaw, but Wanda feels it, and she quirks an eyebrow. “I need words.” She tightens her grip, forces your lips to pucker and your cheeks to ache from how her fingers sit flush against your teeth. 
“N-No.” It takes all of your strength to answer her, and even still all of your mustered up courage leaves a fierce blush sinking into the apples of your cheeks and across the tips of your ears, but a fire lights in Wanda’s eyes at your prolonged battle to remain coherent. You’ve been fighting her on decisions all day, trying to keep your head above the surface and your thoughts clear, but there’s only so much clarity in a moment like this. Nobody can blame you for falling beneath the thumb of the hottest lawyer in the world when you’re quite literally putty in her hands. 
“Oh, well then I guess you won’t mind if I check for myself, will you, detka?” You’d discussed this new kink a week ago. You’d agreed to what she called inspections with no hesitancy, though a healthy bit of embarrassment at the prospect of her being able to feel your sopping cunt whenever she pleased, but you’d agreed and even anticipated the moment she decided to put your agreement to good use. You hadn’t expected her to be so bold as to cash in on your agreement in one of the most densely populated shopping malls in the state of New Jersey, but there was no getting around it now. Still, your eyes fluttered away from hers, anxiously scrounging the small boutique style store for other customers or cameras.
Your eyes only found two figures, and one was distinctly Natasha who had styled her red hair in dutch braids before you left the house. For a second, you wondered if this had been the plan all along; to get you into a store where nobody else dared to shop because of the steep prices and violate you into submission, though you wouldn’t technically call Wanda’s premistion a violation, but… still. The only employee that stood on the floor was a smaller woman with silky chestnut hair, and she occupied a space next to Natasha against the far back wall as the two engaged in a conversation that looked to be revolving around a red bikini top your girlfriend held up to her chest. It complemented her hair nicely, would do absolute wonders for her boobs, but she had no real interest in the article if the pinch between her brows was evidence enough. 
Despite the reassurances you found, you met Wanda’s gaze again and choked out a strangled whisper, “Somebody’s going to see.” The blush on your cheeks was sheerly a factor of your mortification, but Wanda seemed to crave to deepen the sharp color on your face as the hand not gripping your face began its ascent toward your core. The flowy white skirt Natasha had picked out for you allowed her access without a fuss, and when her fingers tickled the sensitive interior of your thighs, you couldn’t help but instinctively part your legs for Wanda’s quest. 
“Shh,” The Sokovian shushed you sweetly, her hand loosening its grip on your jaw but never falling away fully. Her eyes searched yours, practically looking through you as she assured that you were okay to continue, anticipating the moment the safeword fell off your lips and all of her movements stopped. You’d never stop adoring her caution in moments like these. “Let Mommy do the thinking, sweetheart. Little girls don’t need to be worrying about anything other than their Mommy.” Her words fell onto you thickly, and a pout pulled at your lips as they sunk in. That submissive headspace all three of you adored was creeping up on you slowly, and her infantilizing words merely accelerated the process as you blinked at her slowly. 
The hand on your thigh brushed across your mound tauntingly slow, and for a second, you’d forgotten that you weren’t going to receive anything from her touch when it finally came. There would be no pleasure to spiral through your core when her fingers found a home beneath the drenched material of your panties. All that would come from her touch was embarrassment and more frustration. You gasped when Wanda’s ring trailed down the warm skin of your cunt, tracing a path downward until it fell onto your clit almost perfectly. Your hips startled at the cold sensation, but Wanda merely shushed you as the tips of her fingers sought out the source of your arousal. She hummed inquisitively, the pad of her finger pressing against your sopping entrance for merely a moment before it was gone and she was trailing strings of your wetness back up to your clit. 
“You’re so wet, utenok. No wonder you’re having such a hard time listening to Mommy. I bet it’s so hard to think when your pretty little pussy is just crying for attention.” Wanda mused mockingly, the pads of her fingers circling your clit that throbbed and ached for actual relief, but the pleasure never came. As quickly as her hand had dipped into your underwear and sought out your intimacy, they’d fallen away and resettled on your hips. The sticky thinness of your arousal smeared against your exposed skin kissed beautifully from the summer sun, and you knew she had every intention of making you walk through the mall with a patch of glimmering dampness adorning your body that you’d never have the courage to explain if someone questioned it. A deep blush settled across your cheeks, but Wanda wasn’t finished yet. Before you could reach out to her and tangle your fingers into the softness of her t-shirt, she was spinning you around and forcing your back against her chest. “Mommy’s not finished yet. Be a good girl and stay quiet while she checks something.” 
You’d almost had the chance to question her intentions before the words were stolen from between your bitten lips and the softest gasp of pleasure fell from you instead. Wanda’s fingers, still glistening with your arousal, had found a home beneath your skirt and against the base of the plug nestled deep within your ass. You’d only started trying the plugs out a couple weeks ago, but in that span of less than fourteen days they’d become something you adored and hated equally. The deep pleasure that came from constantly feeling full was insatiable and you craved it whenever Natasha pulled it out too soon, but you’ve grown to hate how every soft step shifted it against you perfectly, and especially how no matter which position you attempted to sit in it presses deeper and deeper into you without remorse. Wanda’s fingers circle the crimson red jewel framed between the globes of your ass, cheeks still pink from a spanking you’d received yesterday. The touch is soft, gentle, caring even, but when you think she’s about to pull away and end her little experiment, she taps harshly on the center plug twice, sending sparks of pleasure through your body and into your already fuzzy head. 
“So full for Mommy. Those panties are absolutely ruied, moya lyubov’.” Wanda pulls her hand out of your panties, spinning you back around in her arms and cradling you close to her chest as you shake and try to comprehend the fact that for right now, that simple touch was all you’d be getting. You’d think she almost felt an ounce of sympathy for your desperate form if she wasn’t wearing such a cocky smirk. “You’re being such a good girl, detka. Maybe we should keep you like this, huh? All full and eager to be fucked. Daddy could just bend you over anywhere and you’d take it, wouldn’t you?” Wanda preened into your ear, her words thick with lust and traces of an accent you’ve begun to memorize. You’re not sure whether to nod your head and agree, because it’s true, you’d let Natasha fuck you anywhere she wanted to right now, you’re not oblivious to the fact that she’s packing your favorite strap beneath those denim shorts adorning her toned legs, or to shake your head and beg for her to not let that happen. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive in this state for another couple hours, let alone for however long they deem acceptable. “Huh, answer Mommy, baby. Do you want Mommy to keep you like this forever? Want to be ready to use whenever Mommy and Daddy feel the need to take you?” 
“I-I want you, Mommy.” You pleaded, shaking your head frantically at the suggestion that rolls off of Wanda’s lips like its been imprinted onto the tip of her tongue for decades. The Sokovian smirks, drawing you in closer to her chest and letting her forehead rest against yours, her deep sage eyes peering into your soul with how intensely she stares down at you. 
“You have me, baby.” She soothed your downturned lips with a gentle kiss, her touch soft and smooth yet harboring a lingerance of artificial strawberry chapstick if you thought about her taste long enough. The embrace was fleeting, entirely too short, but it had your head spinning when she pulled away and greeted Natasha who you hadn’t even noticed had come up beside you. “Come on,” Wanda patted your ass deliberately, jostling the plug just softly enough to have you hyper aware of its presence but not earning pleasure. “we still have a couple of stores to hit.” 
“I was thinking we stop by that store you like, ducky. We can see if they have any of those little pins you were talking about?” Natasha places a firm hand on your back, her eyes kind but tinted with lust that has settled deep within her stare permanently since Wanda wiggled the plug between your cheeks. There’s a hint of knowingness in her smile, an indication that she knows perfectly well what had just happened between you and her wife. 
The proposition of spending another handful of hours surrounded by incompetent strangers with no regard for others and continuous sounds that blended into static chatter didn’t sound appealing, but unless you called red, they weren’t taking you home. Reluctantly, you took Natasha’s hand, allowing the lawyer to lead you out of the boutique and toward a store much more your style. Wanda’s hand stayed firm on the small of your back as Natasha took the lead, but your focus had fallen beneath the waves as you surrendered to them entirely. 
-
A desperate whine slipped past your lips as Wanda pulled you into her chest, toned arms still warm from the sun wrapping tightly around your torso and keeping you still. The dressing room was saturated in gold plated decor and embellishments, illuminated by a chandelier framed with dazzling crystals worth more than your entire college education. Natasha had dragged the both of you into the high-end designer store with the hopes of them having their new summer collection, and much to your annoyance, they did. The bold colored suits were a powerful statement, she’d look absolutely delectable in them, but that was exactly what you were worried about. The thought of her in a suit so expensive and sleek sent tingles through your belly that couldn’t just be ignored, especially not with your already existing desperation. Wanda wasn’t blind to your frustration, and she smirked wickedly down at you the second Natasha had slipped behind the heavy fitting room door. 
“Shh, Mommy just wants to check.” She whispered against the shell of your ear, a cold hand trailing up the inside of your thigh that is absolutely drenched with arousal. Your eyes burn into hers as you both become controlled by lust, already blown pupils somehow finding additional blackness to manipulate until the color in Wanda’s eyes is entirely vacant. Your bottom lip is bitten and quivering as you feel her fingers start to massage your slick coated folds, a shaky breath at the back of your throat desperate to be unleashed. “Oh, you’re so wet sweetheart. Did Mommy do this to you?” 
You nod shortly at her question, aware of how close the tips of her cold fingers are coming to your clit every time she strokes the length of your folds, but each time they never brush against your stiff and throbbing nerve, merely coming close enough to tease before they’re gone. She circles your entrance repetitively, pressing against it only to pull away seconds later and trail her fingers back down toward the plug, but she never fully grazes that either. She’s content to keep playing with your body like a toy in the middle of the fitting room, her lewd actions have entirely drowned out the sounds of Natasha throwing different articles of clothes around in the dressing room just a few feet behind you, your focus entirely on her and the sensations she’s provoking cautiously. 
“Oh she did? Mommy did this? What a little slut, getting so worked up and Mommy’s not even touching you fully. You’re so easy, dorogaya” Wanda continues to tease condescendingly, giving you not a single second of relief as she digs her fingers harder into your cunt on the last swipe across your panties before she’s hooking her fingers into the waistband and tugging them down. 
Your eyes go wide as you look up at her fully, your shoulders tensing as she keeps tugging the soiled garment down your thighs. “W-What are you doing?” Your skirt is short, it’s flowy and it’s thin but that was Natasha’s entire goal when she dressed you that morning. You know that despite the length every intimate part of your body is covered, but you weren’t prepared to challenge the wind once you stepped outside again. 
“Color?” Wanda stops her movements, her voice soft and kind as she keeps her eyes on you. Everything before this point had been a discussion that you’d had time to prepare yourself for, but this was unplanned and admittedly terrifying, and yet your belly clenched at the prospect of her undressing you in a public space and forcing you to walk around with no barrier to catch your arousal. 
“G-Green.” You mumbled back at her once you’d taken a second to collect your thoughts and swallow your shock. Wanda nodded curtly before she slipped right back into her role, eyes hard and jaw clenched as she continued pulling your panties down before tapping your thigh in a silent demand for you to step out of them. 
“Then stop talking and let Mommy do what she wants.”  Her voice was hard, leaving no space for you to argue, but you weren’t going to. You stepped out of your panties with a gentle wince, feeling their dampness against your shins before the sensation was gone entirely and Wanda was holding them up to the light to inspect. Your cheeks flushed in humiliation, watching her fingers swipe across the soaked material before she hummed and folded them up, shoving them into her back pocket like they were just a piece of paper she’d found on the ground. “Good girl.” 
You bristled beneath her praise, but your attention drifted away from her when you heard the door unlock and Natasha’s soft footsteps came stepping out slowly. There was no question about whether she had heard the entire exchange, but you had no time to pay attention to her cheeks flush with need as you drank in the sight of her in a hundred thousand dollar suit. If your eyes weren’t already blown wide with lust, they certainly were now as you gawked at her defined biceps and breasts, the suit drowning some of her more prominent features but highly accentuating others. A rippled whine fell off your tongue as your eyes memorized the sight, but so badly you wanted to rip it off her body and drag her home to appreciate her fully. 
“P-Please.” You just barely got the plea off of your lips as Wanda sparked up a conversation with her wife, commenting on the fit of the suit before she began her shower of compliments and praise. You’d gone ignored, or maybe they just hadn’t heard you, whatever the reason for their silence toward you, it only frustrated you further. “Daddy please!” You tried again, eyes wet and pleading as you held onto the little attention Natasha was providing you as her eyes danced away from Wanda’s and found yours beneath the bright LED lights. 
“Shh.” Wanda scolded, a finger coming up to sit on your lips as she turned her head to glare at you. It wasn’t intentional, but your lips had done it anyway. The second her finger, still soft from your arousal, brushed against your lips, you’d let your tongue poke out and lick at her finger, able to identify the traces of you that clung to her skin despite how she’d wiped her fingers clean on your outer thigh. Your lips wrapped around the digit, suckling and biting sweetly as the blanket over your mind became thicker and warmer. Wanda didn’t stop you, merely returned her attention to Natasha before the Russian nodded and disappeared back into the fitting room, hopefully changing back into her own clothes. “Mommy needs that back, little one.” Wanda said softly, gently easing her finger from between your lips when it became apparent that you weren’t going to relinquish it yourself. A pitiful whine came falling off the tip of your tongue when she pulled it away, but she merely smiled sweetly and kissed the top of your head. “Come on, Daddy’s gonna check out and then we’re going to go home.” 
You shook your head, absolutely appalled at the suggestion that you’d have to wait until you arrived home to get what you wanted. The mall wasn’t far, but an hour was a long time for someone who had been teased and dragged along relentlessly since the sun had first kissed the gravel paths that weaved and winded through Westview. 
“No?” Wanda furrowed her brows, looking down at you with nothing but softness in her still black and lust filled stare. She’d dropped the condescending tone, abandoned the fleeting touches and teasing, but the only thing that would fully cure the arousal in her eyes was getting a taste of your sweet pussy. 
The words felt heavy on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t last another hour without release, and so they found their way off of your lips before you could panic about the implications of your request, “Fuck me now.” 
Wanda’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but that look of shock that claimed her strong features had quickly become something sinister as she stepped closer to you, invading your personal space and allowed you the slightest tinge of her perfume as her chest came flush with yours and she let a single finger tilt your head upward to meet her heavy stare. “Yeah? You want your Daddy to put that strap to use and treat you like a filthy little slut where anyone can hear you crying out in pleasure? You want an audience, moya utenok?” 
A whimper filled the dressing room as your thighs pressed together, your lack of panties leaving the rush of arousal to drip nowhere by your thighs as you writhed beneath Wanda. A soft nod came next, and Wanda smirked proudly, mimicking your gesture before she stepped away entirely and turned her attention back to Natasha who had only just left the dressing room with the suit thrown over her forearm. 
“Hurry up, moya lyubov’. The little slut wants her Daddy to fuck her and who am I to say no to that?” Wanda taunted, grabbing your hand and leading you back out into the store, letting Natasha check out in peace as she occupied you with whispered promises of how the Russian was going to absolutely ruin you where anyone was around to watch. 
-
The only saving grace about Natasha’s car were the tinted windows that blocked out the eyes of anyone who dared to even get close to the Stingray. The seat was drenched in your arousal, thighs spread wide as you occupied almost the entire strip of leather. She’d need to clean the seats thoroughly when you got home, but for right now, neither of you cared. Your hands sunk into the cushioned row of seats as you pressed your ass out further, back arched and muscles strained as you dropped your forehead onto the window and watched with slitted eyes as your breath fogged up the glass. Wanda watched from the passenger seat, green eyes trained on your desperate form that reflected off the rearview mirror pointed downward. Natasha was pressed up against the door, shorts unzipped and hanging loosely over her hip bones as the strap stood at full attention, no longer confined beneath the stiff denim. 
Your skirt was bunched up around your hips, ass and thighs already red from various hits and spanks that the Russian had laid upon your ivory skin. She’d yet to touch you, but each hit that rocked the plug in your ass sent you reeling closer and closer to ultimate pleasure. All you could make out was white spots as they danced along your vision and intercepted the view of strangers and cars wrecking havoc in the parking lot around you. Even when a middle aged man and his wife had gotten close to the car, shopping bags in each of their hands that you could only assume was a pending return, you hadn’t focused much on what they could see from the outside. Your focus was entirely on Natasha, and yet the lawyer hadn’t done anything since bending you over. 
“D-Daddy please! I need you so bad! Please!” You cried out in desperation, back arching further as your nipples grazed the seats, your ass grinding against the strap that she refused to shove into you just yet. What she was waiting for, you didn’t know, but every agonizing second that passed was becoming longer and longer as you waited for relief to wash over you fully. Only she could get you to that point, and yet no matter how much you pleaded with her she didn’t cave. “P-Please!” A strangled cry slipped past your lips when her hand found your ass and her thumb pressed firmly on the jeweled plug nestled between your cheeks. 
“Shh.” The Russian coos. It’s the first sound that’s come to fill the car that wasn’t your own since she had aggressively shoved you into the backseat, and you greedily drink in the unspoken promise that what you want is coming soon. You have no time to prepare yourself for the intrusion of her strap as it slips between your folds and finds a home within your cunt in seconds, but you gasp so sweetly that Natasha doesn’t stop to give you a moment to adjust to the wide girth that’s splitting you open. You’ve wanted this for hours, she’s in no mood to drag your pleasure out any further, having already tested her own patience as she waited for Wanda’s silent permission to begin. You’d been oblivious to the curt nod that was given by the Sokovian, but as much as the game was in Natasha’s hands now, Wanda still held all the cards. “Do you feel that, malyshka? Feel Daddy’s cock splitting you open? Filling this slutty little pussy where anyone can see if they come close enough. I bet you’re so full. This pretty little plug has been driving you crazy all day, hasn’t it? Mommy picked out such a pretty color for you.” As the words drive you farther and farther into pleasure and submission, Natasha’s thumb presses against the plug and sends your mind spiraling downward into a sea of static energy. There’s a thick ringing in your ears that forces your mind to go blank, your hips that had been stuttering against her quick thrusts stilling as you surrendered your body to her control, willing to take whatever she gave you in this very moment. 
Natasha’s thrusts only grow faster as your moans and whines become softer and sweeter, desperation not only evident in the way your arousal soaks your thighs and the seats, but in the pitch of your moans as they fill the car and ricochet off the windows. You don’t have it in you to feel embarrassed by how loud you’re being, your only focus is taking the pleasure and not letting it slip away again. A broken cry leaves your lips as Natasha’s hand finds your clit, thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive nub as she winds you tighter and tighter. Her own thrusts are becoming choppy and quick, groans of pleasure harmonizing with yours until the entire car is just an explicit symphony of intimacy. Wanda’s eyes haven’t left you once, but you can’t see her with the way you’re bent and arched over. Natasha can, and she curses beautiful in Russian as she gives you the green light to let go. 
“Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me. Cum on Daddy’s strap.” She encourages gently, her thrusts growing harsher as she chases her own pleasure and orgasms with a delicate moan, though it's quickly drowned out by your own sobs and cries of bliss as you writhe beneath her heavy hands and let the coil snap in your belly. Your body shakes in the aftermath, arms giving out on you as you crash against the leather seats and subsequently pull your cunt off of her strap, the glistening material catching rays of sunlight before she quickly tucks it back into her shorts and zips them up. “You did so good for us, malyshka. So so good.” Natasha kisses the bottom of your spine, her fingers working on the plug in your ass simultaneously. Wanda maneuvered herself in the passenger seat, her hand reaching out to just barely brush against your upper back as well. “Relax for me, angel. Let Daddy take this plug out and then we’ll go home.” She talks you through the process, but nothing prepares you for how empty you feel when the metal is no longer flush against your walls keeping you full. A strangled whimper falls off your lips before it’s gently drowned out by shushing and shuffling. Natasha, unwilling to let you go through aftercare in a crowded parking lot all twisted up, opens the door and steps out of the car, nodding for Wanda to occupy a seat in the back beside you. “Mommy’s gonna sit back here with you, and Daddy’s gonna take us home. Just let go, honey. It’s all okay.” 
It doesn’t take longer than five minutes for Wanda to be sat beside you, your body curled up into her chest and void of a seatbelt. Typically she’d scold you for such a behavior, but all she does now is hold you tighter and kiss your head, promising that you’ll be home soon and there will be plenty of cuddles and kisses all wrapped up beneath the heavy blankets on the bed.
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afterglowkatie · 2 months ago
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is it over now? | k.c.c.
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kyra cooney-cross x williamson!reader | 1.8k | kyra knows you're leah's sister, but it's been a few days since and all your messages, calls and voicemails are left unanswered
ˏˋ°•*⁀ part of the daylight universe. you can go read the first part 'daylight' before reading this :) currently five more main parts planned out as well
‘Kyra please. Please just let me explain. Please pick up or call me back,’ Another unanswered phone call. Another voicemail left while you paced around your apartment. It had been a few days since that match and Kyra hadn’t returned any of your calls or any of your messages. You’d restrained yourself from going to her apartment, trying to give her some space understanding she’d be upset.
If you were in Kyra’s position you’d also be upset and reacting the same way. But you just wanted to explain and hopefully Kyra could understand where you’re coming from and things can go back to how they were. You didn’t want to lose Kyra. Work the past few days hadn’t felt the same without your favourite person walking through the doors. 
You probably looked semi crazy, your head shooting up or turning around so fast whenever you heard the little bell above the front door ring. Hoping that Kyra would be the one walking through. Though every single time you’d let out a disappointed sigh and do your best to throw on the friendliest smile you could muster and greet the customer, who wasn’t Kyra, who’d just walked into your shop.
It’s not like there was anyone you could reach out to either to see if Kyra was alright. You couldn’t ask your sister, she’d definitely question why you were asking about someone you’d only met ‘once in passing’. You really couldn’t ask any of the other girls either for the same reason, since you and Kyra had kept your meetings to yourselves, enjoying the bit of privacy you had to explore each other in private.
You stopped in your tracks when you heard a knock on your apartment door, ‘Oh,’ Your shoulders deflated and the hope on your face faltered slightly when you opened your door revealing your sister on the other side.
‘Oh? Were you expecting someone else?’ Leah feigned offence at your reaction and slipped past you making herself at home in your apartment.
‘I wasn’t expecting anyone?’ Raising your eyebrow at Leah you reluctantly shut the door. Part of you was hoping that Leah would disappear and Kyra would suddenly appear.
‘What do you mean? We made these plans ages ago, finally getting you to come out with the girls again,’ Leah looked at you sceptically, in a way where you felt like she could see right through you, ‘You’ve been acting strange lately. Am I too cool for you?’ Leah smirked as you shook your head.
‘You? Too cool? I think you need to read the definition of cool because you are not it,’ You gently nudged your sister laughing along with her. It had been a while since you properly hung out with Leah or the other girls. But right now you couldn’t think of anything worse, ‘Can we just stay in tonight Le, please? I’m not feeling the best today,’ It wasn’t a complete lie, not being able to contact Kyra had left your stomach in knots and your sleep schedule was a complete mess making your head hurt on and off throughout the days.
‘Fine, but you owe me and the girls a night out soon,’ Leah slung her arm around you, pulling you close. It was the perfect night with your sister, you really needed that distraction. You really needed any distraction that stopped you from burning holes in your flooring from pacing around your apartment.
Though your distraction only lasted a night and part way through the next day you were back where you were before Leah showed up at your apartment. There was a constant weight in your stomach, which wasn’t eased when you noticed all your messages had been left on read and your calls went straight to voicemail.
‘Alessia, thank you,’ The need to talk to someone about the situation led you to messaging Alessia quite late at night when you were going through another almost sleepless night, which you apologised for when you realised. Alessia, although given how close she was with Kyra and Leah and considering she played with them both, felt like the safest option you had in terms of someone you could talk to.
‘Leah did not mention how you look like you haven’t slept in weeks when she was talking about how nice it was to actually spend time with you again the other night,’ You could see concern on Alessia’s face. You got on quite well with Alessia since the first time Leah introduced you to her, ‘What’s going on?’
‘So,’ You started while you brought your hands up to your face, still pacing around the room while Alessia sat there watching you, ‘You cannot tell Leah, or anyone, but especially Leah,’ You knew it was unfair of you to put Alessia in this situation knowing what you were about to put on her but you just needed a friend that would hopefully listen and try to understand, ‘I was kind of seeing Kyra,’
‘Wait, Kyra? As in our Kyra?’ The surprise written across Alessia’s face wasn’t all that unusual considering the circumstances. All you did was nod while your stomach did flips thinking about Kyra, slight unease overtaking the usual fuzziness you’d normally feel when thinking about her, knowing all of this could’ve been avoidable.
‘Well Kyra didn’t know I’m Leah’s sister either,’ Drawing out your response you noticed Alessia’s slight hesitation before speaking, trying to process the mess you were revealing to her.
‘I take it that Kyra knows now?’ You groaned sitting down next to Alessia, head in your hands.
‘And now she’s not answering my calls or texts and I don’t know what to do,’ If it wasn’t for Alessia already knowing you were the same age as her, the way you looked up at her with the biggest pout on your face, she would’ve thought you were a lot younger. Like someone who was experiencing their first big relationship, first misunderstanding. 
The way you looked so defeated and it hadn’t been that long since the match, she could tell you really cared about Kyra. If anyone could see you they would be able to see it, they’d be able to tell that what you and Kyra had, despite never talking about labelling it, that it was much more than just a casual thing. 
‘Look, I haven’t known Kyra all that long either but if she cares about you the same way you seem to care about her then I think you’ll be fine. It’s probably a lot to process and she’s not someone who’ll just go about pretending you don’t exist anymore. She’ll come back,’ Trying to let Alessia’s words sink in to give you that comforting reassurance, you laid your head on her shoulder mumbling out your appreciation that she was here listening to you spiral, ‘Now tell me everything, how did you guys even meet without any of us knowing?’
Letting someone know about you and Kyra was partly relieving and partly added a layer of worries. Worries about Leah or anyone else finding out in a way you weren’t ready for. But for now that was at the back of your mind, something you’d deal with later on. 
‘Well now I know why you look so familiar,’ Dropping your keys out of surprise at hearing the one voice you had been longing to hear for the entire week. You definitely didn’t think that you’d come home to find Kyra standing outside your apartment, ‘Really I don’t know why I didn’t pick it sooner. Your resemblance to Leah is uncanny,’
Kyra tried to keep the air light between you. But even now while you were both sitting in your apartment you felt like the air was suffocating you. Having Kyra back here as all you wanted, but not knowing where this talk might lead had you stressing. All the worst case scenarios were running through your mind, taking up all the space you could barely think about what you were going to say to Kyra.
‘Hey,’ Over the months, Kyra has come to really know you. To the point she could almost read you like an open book. She had always been able to tell what you needed without you even needing to tell her, ‘I still really like you, you know,’ Kyra gave you a small reassuring smile while placing her hand on top of yours, giving it a slight squeeze, ‘I just want to understand,’
You gave a small nod and took a deep breath trying to collect yourself, Kyra’s hand never left yours, ‘I didn’t mean to not tell you. But it also felt nice having someone who got to know me for me and not getting to know me just because I’m Leah’s sister. Also I was a little scared that if you knew Leah was my sister then it would scare you away. As much as I love Le, she’s scared away quite a few people before,’
‘What? Leah scaring people away? Couldn’t see that happening at all,’ Kyra’s voice dripping with sarcasm while you started relaxing a little, the corner of your lips starting to turn upwards, ‘All she does is smile,’ 
‘You’re so annoying,’ You playfully nudged Kyra, shaking your head, while you both laughed out loudly.
‘Yeah but you still like me,’ Kyra smiled more, wrapping her arm around you, pulling you into her side, ‘And I do like you, very much. Big scary Leah isn’t going to keep me away from you either,’ Kyra leaned down slightly, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.
‘Are you sure? I did like lie and I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me,’ If you were looking at Kyra you would’ve seen the look of disbelief she pulled at you. Her expression would’ve been enough alone to convince you that you were being silly, as if she didn’t just semi-express her feelings towards you.
‘Technically, you didn’t lie. You just didn’t say it,’ Kyra leaned back further into the couch, pulling you half on top of her, while rubbing your side gently, ‘And did you not listen when I told you that I like you,’ Kyra placed a hand on your cheek, gently moving your head so you were looking at her, ‘Assuming there isn’t anything else you’re keeping from me, but anyway since I really like you,  it’s a risk i’m willing to take since I don’t intend on letting you go anytime soon,’
You smiled, closing the gap between you both. Your lips connecting with hers, making up for the past week where you missed her touch, missed her being around, missed being close to her. The kiss also said a million words, expressing all the feelings for each other that neither of you could properly say, ‘So you forgive me?’ Mumbling against her lips, your forehead resting against hers slightly.
Kyra smirked, a cheeky grin quickly replacing it, ‘I could be convinced,’
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